SFA: Senshi no Kyogi
by StardustDragon052
Summary: The path of the true warrior is a long and arduous road... My novelization of the Street Fighter Alpha series. Rated for violence and language.
1. Foreword

_**SFA: Senshi Kyogi**_

**Foreword**

To be honest, unlike most of the _SF_ community, I didn't hate _Street Fighter Alpha: The Movie_ or _Street Fighter Alpha: Generations_. Sure, both paled in comparison to _Street Fighter II: The Animated Film_, but it wasn't like they were crap. My main qualm: they _didn't_ stick to the plots of the games. Or at least, not whole-heartedly. You can't even argue that with the _SFII_ movie because the games didn't even have much of a backstory then.

Both _Alpha _films focused almost solely on Ryu's struggle with the Satsui no Hadou. The Satsui no Hadou "arc" did add some weight to the overall story, but it wasn't as if that was the _only _thing that happened in the games. It also didn't help when horrible, one-dimensional OCs were added in just for the heck of it. Shun, Saddler, and Sayako, I'm looking at you.

Long story short, _Senshi Kyogi _("Warrior's Creed") is my novelization of the events that take place in (or are alluded to) in _Street Fighter Alpha. _

**About the Rating:  
**This fan-fict will be rated "T". Obviously, some of this comes from the sheer amount of violence on the part of the fighters, but there will also be swearing on the part of a good portion of the cast (especially, the less "refined" characters).

**About the Story/Canon:  
**Most of the story will cover the _SFA _series, but there will be some chapters covering _SF_, _SFII_, the _FF _(_Final Fight_) series_,_ and even the pre-_SF_ backstory. Some of this will be improvised, however, to help the story flow better. Not every piece of backstory will come into play, but the main plot (i.e the Satsui No Hadou and Shadoloo) will be kept intact. A lot of the info in the story (that isn't stated in-game) comes from a vast compiling of official sources and statements, so don't be surprised if a few "forgotten" tidbits pop up.

Timeline-wise, I'm not pulling most of the dates out of the blue. The (majority of the) dates for the events (or more accurately, the games) are based off of official sources. Key info to remember:  
*_ Street Fighter _takes place in 1987  
* _Final Fight_ also takes place in 1987 (most likely between 09/03 and 12/31, given the official birthdates for Guy, Cody, and Haggar and retconing the original "1989" date)  
* _Street Fighter Alpha 2 _(which overrides the original _SFA_) starts in late 1987 and goes on until early 1989  
* _Final Fight 2_ occurs in 1988  
* _Street Fighter Alpha 3_ goes from 1989 until 1990  
* _Final Fight 3 _probably transpires in 1991 (due to retcons)  
* _Street Fighter II _takes place in 1993 (given that _Super Street Fighter II Turbo_ contains the same story as the original _SFII_, it's same to assume that the original's date of "1992" is null and void)

**About the Characters:  
**I'm striving to get every playable character from the (_Alpha_) series into this fan-fiction. Since some characters have more precedence over others (obviously), the cast will be divided into three groups: primary characters, secondary characters, and minor characters.

Primary characters are the main set of characters and the usual focal points of the chapter. For example, Ryu would fall under this group. Not only is he the main character of the overall series, but most of the main events in the _Alpha _series have something to do with him some way or another. Likewise, M. Bison is a main character, simply because he's _the_ main villain of the _Alpha _series (and _SFII_).

Secondary characters have some importance, but it's usually only in relation to a main character and _not_ the main story. Guile (fans, please hear me out), while important to the ultimate downfall of Bison, doesn't show up until the end of _SFA3_, and even then, he plays second fiddle to Charlie and Chun-Li for the most part. Another good example would be the majority of the _FF_ cast. Cody, Maki, Sodom, and Rolento do have their own subplots; the former two, however, merely have ties to Guy (who's much more involved in the overall story, considering that he's tasked with bringing down Shadaloo and tries to stop Rose from a deathmatch with Bison), while the latter two end up on some odd quest looking for Bison's Psycho Drive (only to find out that they _don't_ need it) and restoring the Mad Gear gang from _FF_.

Minor characters, such as Kei Chitose (Sakura's childhood friend), only show up sporadically after their initial appearances, and don't usually do much for the overall story.

In addition, keep an eye out for some characters from _every_ series (that includes _EX_, _III_, and _IV_) and the _SF_-related universe (mainly _FF_, but a few others may pop up or be referenced) to cameo just for the heck of it. Some of these are harmless fun and shouldn't be taken seriously (i.e. Allen Snider [_EX_] and Abel [_IV_] duking it out in a round of the U.S. Martial Arts tournament, or Geki [_SF_] being the father of Ibuki [_III_]), but others (such as a young Makoto [_III_] watching Ryu during the original _SF_ tournament, Gen [_SF_, _SFA_] taking in Yun and Yang [_III_], the nephews of his friend Lee [_SF_], or Cracker Jack [_EX_] being a part of Shadaloo, even though _EX_ is non-canon) are included simply because they're plausible.

Similar to the story, expect some "forgotten" characters to pop from time to time; Capcom may have forgotten about them, but I haven't.

Last note: There will be some running gags with some of the characters as well as nods to various in-game phenomena. See if you can catch some of these.

**About the Special Moves:  
**This part will actually be somewhat hard to convey. If you're ever played a _SF _game before, you'll know that not all techniques (i.e. specials, supers, ultras, misc. attacks, etc.) are shouted out loud. Most (like the Kikouken and Tiger Genocide) are named, but a good number (like Cody's Criminal Upper) aren't. During the immense number of fights in the story (trust me, there are _a lot_), I'll try to describe these moves to the best of my ability (and perhaps name them afterwards) to keep confusion to a minimum. Some of these attacks may come from non-canon sources (such as Dan's Premium Sign from the _Marvel vs. Capcom _series) and games that occur after _SFA _and _SFII_ (i.e. giving Ken his Shippuu Jinrai Kyaku from _SFIII_).

**About the Language/Dialects:  
**Since a majority of the characters speak in Japanese (even the ones who _don't_ come from Japan), I'm making an effort to include some Japanese (and a few other languages in the case of certain characters) in the chapters. Translations for foreign words will come at the end of the chapters, although I can't guarantee that everything will be correct (a few of the translations may be _extremely _rough or somewhat incorrect); I have a _very _limited understanding of Japanese (and other foreign languages sans Spanish). There will be times when a Japanese word will be put in for the heck of it, but I won't know what it truly means. If anyone wants to aid me in my endeavors, PM me.

As for how all of the characters can understand each other, just believe that everyone knows English, a number know Japanese, and a few others can speak in their native tongues (i.e. Zangief, Dhalsim, Chun-li, etc.). If that doesn't make sense, play _Tekken 5_. Naturally, the characters that are native to Japan will speak more often in Japanese (the only exception will probably be Sodom, for comedic purposes).

**Final Words:  
**Anyway, I hope that you all enjoy _SFA: Senshi Kyogi_ and feel free to give me feedback, good or bad. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask. I'd be happy to oblige if anyone is need of an explanation.

* * *

**A/N**: The first chapter will be posted immediately after this.


	2. The Murderous Roar

**A/N:** If anyone is interested in beta reading this story, contact me.

**Disclaimer:** I _don't _own _Street Fighter_. _Street Fighter, Final Fight_, _Street Fighter EX_, as well as all respective elements and relative meta-series, are copyright Capcom, Arika, and all individual creators. I may own the rights to this story, but that may be pushing my luck a bit _too_ far.

_**

* * *

**___

_**SFA: Senshi Kyogi**_

**Chapter 1**: **The Murderous Roar**

_Japan, 1973 - A remote wilderness... _

A fierce downpour of rain blanketed the woods. A lone figure dashed through a shoddily-paved trail in the forest, trying to make his way. After a few minutes of stumbling, he halted and checked his surroundings.

"I'm sure that the Master was just here. I felt his ki. Where could he have gone off to?" The male pondered as he continued to look around. He wore a plain whitish-grey t-shirt and jeans. His eyes were black and his black hair fell down below his shoulders.

Just then, he stopped as he sensed a sudden surge of energy. The youth began to break out into a sweat. "That dark burst of ki... C-could it be... Gouki?"

A feral roar sounded off in the distance...

Two figures stood alone in an isolated field. The rain continued to pour down with great intensity as thunder boomed. A blustery wind swept through the land, violently tugging at the vegetation. A dark power swept over the land as the flowers and grassy plains decayed and took on a withered, blackened appearance.

"HADOUKEN!" A red-headed figure in a black gi fired a purple blast of pure evil at the other figure. The concentrated ball of ki zipped across the plains, producing a large explosion followed by a shockwave. As a cloud of dust cleared, the red-headed man dashed through at a breakneck speed. His eerily white eyes lacked pupils and his face expressed pure, unadulterated chaos and malice.

The man collided into the other figure, an elderly man with a moss green gi and mahogany prayer beads on his neck. The central bead had a black kanji in the middle of it: "ten" (天). The older man wore a bandana upon his head, and he sported a lengthy, but thin white beard. His face was solemn as the other man shoulder tackled him. The elder was knocked into a tree, knocking some air out of his lungs and causing him to spit up some blood. As the older figure slowly rose to resume his fighting stance, he spoke a single word: "Gouki."

The youth in the grey shirt and jeans broke out into a sprint as he continued to traverse through the muddy trail of the forest. "Sensei! Where are you?" the youth shouted. He had a bad feeling in his gut...

The man, christened Gouki, charged at the elder again. The older man nimbly dodged Gouki's straight jab, which dented the tree behind them. Taking advantage of his position, the man delivered a fierce blow to Gouki's abdomen followed by a roundhouse kick to his face, knocking the red-haired youth backwards. Gouki's eyes briefly returned to normal as he glanced at the bruise on his face.

The old man began to take the offensive as he lunged at Gouki. Jumping into the air, the man delivered a devastating kick to Gouki's face. He continued with a second kick from the second leg. Summoning up even more of his ki, the man finished his brutal combo with a spinning kick from the first leg. The attack hit Gouki's neck with bone-shattering impact, sending the karateka backwards. Gouki staggered a bit as he recovered from the latest blow.

Both combatants panted for a few seconds. This "warm-up" was only the start. A faint grin crept across both mens' faces. Both were enjoying the fight, and from the looks of it, it'd be a long one at that...

Their fight dragged on for hours and no clear victor could be determined. A collision of hadou and hadou. Fist crossed fist. Blood sprayed the land, as a once tranquil relationship was exceeded by the sole desire of killing one another.

"Gouki! You're doing very well," the old man called out. "But, this is the end!" The older man began to muster up a startling amount of ki and began to shape the ki in the palm of his hands. The energy formed a blue, spiraling sphere - the Shinkuu Hadouken. The man yelled fervently as he continued to charge up his ki. "DIE GOUKI!"

Gouki's pupils once again disappeared as he went berserk. "I WILL NOT DIE!" Gouki ferally retorted. He roared as a dark burst of ki began to accumulate within his body. A mass of ki transformed into innumerable incandescent blazes as a great power was unleashed from Gouki's body.

The older karateka was shocked as he recognized the move that his opponent initiated. "Shun Goku Satsu?!"

He was aghast with a combination of surprise and terror as Gouki glided towards him. Upon reaching the man, Gouki grabbed him and unleashed a magenta burst of ki.

One thought entered the man's mind as Gouki's attack connected. It was not one of fear, but that of pride._ I'm glad that one of my students_... _could finally surpass me_...

The youth dressed in casual clothes stopped and began to pant, bending foward and resting his hands on his knees. He had finally made it to a clearing in the woods. He quivered uncontrollably as a purple flash lit up the stormy skies. The man's eyes were wide with fear and anxiety as his mouth went agape. "No..."

Another dust cloud cleared. The old man was dead. His body was busted up and sported several gashes and wounds. He laid in a pool of cold blood. Yet, a small smile was visible on his face.

Gouki had his back turned to the fallen body of his opponent. He muttered one word: "Shoushi." His scelera was now blood red and his ebony pupils, while barely visible, had reappeared. His eyes were now dark and soulless. Gouki turned around and lifted the bloodied prayer beads off of the corpse.

The other youth had just reached the site of the battle. He stopped and surveyed the area. He recognized one figure and slowly started to approach. "Gouki? What are you doing here? Have you seen the Master?"

Gouki, his back turned to the youth, merely murmured. "Hmph. Gouken." It was then that the other youth, a man named Gouken, had noticed the bloodied prayer beads dangling from Gouki's hands.

Gouken's mind was quick to put two and two together. "No... no... you... y-you couldn't have..." Gouken began to frantically search his surroundings. His gaze fell upon a broken and bloodied body of an old man.

"SENSEI!" Gouken immediately ran over to the corpse of his master and began to shake it in an attempt to rouse the elder back to life. No dice; the body was cold to the touch by the time Gouken had reached it.

"Why brother? WHY?!" Gouken screamed as he turned to face Gouki. Gouken's eyes were alit with rage as tears fell from his eyes.

It was then that Gouki finally turned around to face his brother. Gouken noticed that Gouki's face was impassive, devoid of all emotion. "For the _older_ brother, you just don't get it, do you? Goutetsu, that blasted old fool." A faint smirk appeared on Gouki's face, but then faded away. "He wanted us to surpass him. Ansatsuken is a _killer's _martial art. To fight, to learn this deadly style, we must put _everything _on the line. And by showing us the gateway to the Satsui no Hadou, he sealed his fate."

"Gouki... you... you're not human. You're... you're a monster. An oni!" Gouken yelled furiously at his younger brother.

Gouki took the comment in stride. It didn't faze him at all. "A demon, huh? Then so be it. If I _am_ a demon, then this name is no longer fitting. From here on... my name is Akuma."

Gouki, now renamed Akuma, lifted the bloodied prayer beads onto his neck and began to walk away. "Take heart brother... you are not my enemy this day. But if you attempt to stop me, I _won't _hesitate to kill you."

Gouken was utterly speechless as Akuma's silhouette disappeared into the haze. All that Gouken could see was a crimson version of the kanji "ten" blazoned on the back of Akuma's gi. The rain still continued to beat down upon the land. Gouken merely fell down upon his knees. He cradled the body of Goutetsu, his master. Gouken then belted out a loud scream. He buried his head into the body of his deceased master and began to cry. The boy's spirit was broken.

From that day on, Gouken knew the path in life that he had to take...

* * *

**Translations  
**_Gouken - _strong fist, strong sword  
_Gouki_ - strong spirit, strong ogre, strong demon  
_Goutetsu_ - strong iron, thunderous iron (according to older materials)  
_Akuma _- demon, a derivative of the Japanese word for devil  
_Hadouken_ - Surge Fist (lit. "Wave Motion Fist")  
_Shinkuu Hadoken _- Vacuum Surge Fist  
_Shun Goku Satsu_ - Instant Hell Murder  
_Satsui No Hadou_ - Surge of Murderous Intent  
_Ansatsuken _- assassination fist, muderous fist, technique  
_shoushi _- pathetic  
_sensei _- teacher, master  
_kanji _- characters/letters (lit. "Han characters", as in the Han Dynasty)  
_ten _- sky, heaven, providence, "beyond human limits" (roughly)  
_oni_ - demon  
_ki_ - energy flow, spirit  
_gi - _Japanese training uniform (esp. in martial arts)  
_karateka _- practioner of karate

* * *

**A/N:** Three things to point out:  
1) This fight scene is a combination of the opening scene from _Street Fighter Alpha: Generations_ and older materials that portrayed the Akuma/Goutetsu fight. Gouken, Akuma, Goutetsu's character designs take a few notes from this OVA.  
2) I made up the whole "Gouki changing his name to Akuma" thing. It's only to make a bridge between localization differences when Akuma (known as Gouki in Japan) made his grand entrance in _SSFIIT_, as well as show Akuma's detachment from his past life.  
3) The "1973" date is conjecture from Akuma's bio from the Japanese version of _SSFIIT_, where it states that Akuma is 48 (in 1993) and that he killed Goutetsu about 20 years ago. This would mean that Goutetsu was murdered around 1973 (Akuma would be 28 at the time, and Gouken would be slightly older).

The next chapter will be slightly longer.


	3. Turn Back the Pendulum

**A/N:** Well, here's the next chapter. Enjoy! Again, if anyone is interested in beta-reading for this story, contact me.

Oh, and in case it isn't clear, a sentence that is in complete italics denotes thought.

**Disclaimer:** I _don't _own _Street Fighter_. _Street Fighter, Final Fight_, _Street Fighter EX_, as well as all respective elements and relative meta-series, are copyright Capcom, Arika, and all individual creators. I may own the rights to this story, but that may be pushing my luck a bit _too_ far.

* * *

_**SFA: Senshi Kyogi**_

**Chapter 2: Turn Back the Pendulum**

_Japan, 1952 - The wilderness near Suzaku Castle... _

A middle-aged man with grey hair opened the door to his humble abode to see a baffling sight: two kids standing outside of his door. One had fair skin, medium length black hair, and black eyes. He wore a slight smile.

Next to the first boy was a slightly younger one. This one had a darker complexion, short red hair, and black eyes. His face was sunken and sullen.

The old man looked upon his visitors intently. He hadn't seen people come into this area for a long time...

"Hm? Can I help you two?"

The first boy replied. "Um... mister... we were wondering if we could stay here for awhile." The old man raised an eyebrow at this.

The boy continued to speak. "You see..." - he paused briefly as his hands quivered - "... we don't have a place of our own. We're orphans." The other boy lowered his head in remorse.

This last statement hit deep with the old man. He had no family of his own and here were two boys who had lost their parents.

"Orphans? You two aren't pulling my leg, are you?"

"No." That was all the younger boy said with a solemn tone.

"So... you two are orphans, ne?"

"Hai." The same boy replied almost robotically in an equally grim tone.

"And you wish to stay with me for awhile?"

"Hai."

"Well... I can't guarantee that you'll like it here, but... I'm be more than happy to let you two stay. Perhaps you guys can even learn a few tricks from me." The old man slyly grinned.

The first child's face could barely hold in the excitement, but the second's stayed impassive. "We'd love too! Ne?" The older child cheerfully looked at the younger boy.

"Hai."

Both boys bowed. The older child spoke first. "I'm Gouken. I'm honored to meet you. And this..." - Gouken gestured to his companion - "... is my brother Gouki."

"It's a pleasure." Gouki's face was as solemn as ever.

"My name is Goutetsu. Make yourselves at home." The old man smiled as he opened the door to his home.

Even Gouki was now smiling. The two brothers had found a home.

* * *

_Japan, 1962 - Goutetsu's residence__... _

Two teenagers were sparring. Fierce blows were traded, received, dealt, parried, and blocked. An older man in a green gi with red prayer beads and a bandana surveyed their fight from afar. It was Goutestu, perched on top of a flight of steps leading to a temple.

The two combatants charged at each other. Goutetsu merely raised his hand and yelled. "Enough!"

Both figures came skidding to a halt. One tripped and fell flat on his face, a loud and odd guttural noise resonating from his muffled mouth.

One fighter was draped in a white gi. Long black hair fell beneath his shoulders. His black eyes shone brightly as a confident smile covered his face. It was Gouken.

The second fighter wore a black gi. He sported short, fiery-red hair. He groaned as he slowly rose up from the ground. He coughed as a dust cloud entered his mouth. His black eyes gleamed with excitement and intensity, but they weren't as bright as Gouken's. It was Gouki.

Gouki sighed with slight irritation as he finally stood upright. "Master, what's the point of sparring sessions if they can't even last for more than _two_ minutes?"

"I have to agree with Gouki on this," Gouken calmly stated. "We've been practicing for years, and we only just learnt how to use our ki for the most basic of purposes."

Goutetsu was amused. "Ah, but you must master the basics before you can ascend to the next step of your training. Again."

Gouki glanced at Gouken, who merely shrugged. Both brothers chuckled and shook their heads before resuming their training regime.

* * *

_Japan, 1972 - The inner shrine of Goutetsu's dojo..._

An older Gouken and Gouki knelt down behind Goutetsu inside the temple. Both men clasped their hands in prayer. Goutetsu had his back turned to his students, deep in meditation.

After a few moments, Goutetsu opened his eyes, but didn't face his pupils. The brothers turned their heads to look at one another. The siblings were equally anxious. Goutetsu finally opened his mouth to speak.

"Gouken, Gouki... my disciples. My sons. After living with you for so long, I feel guilty. I feel that I should have warned you earlier about the risks of learning this style. Many have sought to learn this style of fighting, but not to protect themselves. No, that is not the case with Ansatsuken."

Both brothers understood what their venerable master was implying. Gouken was the first to respond. "Ansatsuken? As in _assassination _fist?"

Gouki was up next. "Master, why didn't you tell us about this earlier? Stuff like this _is _crucial, yansu?"

"I can understand why you two are questioning my... integrity. But remember, this style is nothing more than a tool for which to shape your own destinies. You mold and shape the style as you feel fit. If it's any consolation, I've only killed out of self-defense, and even then, I was hesitant to do so."

_Kill_. That was a word that made Gouken feel uneasy.

Goutetsu pressed on. "But that was not the reason I called you two today. There is something else that I need to show you."

Goutetsu slowly closed his eyes again. He reassumed his meditative stance. The brothers tensed up as a dark, otherworldly power swept over the area. A fierce purplish aura of ki surrounded the man's frail body, blazing throughout the temple and engulfing the two students. And then... as quickly as it came, the maelstrom of energy had receded.

The brothers were overwhelmed, their mouths agape and beads of sweat falling from their faces. Gouken collapsed and began to wheeze. Gouki violently coughed and held his mouth. It was a few minutes before the two had regained their composure.

Gouki was experiencing a combination of awe and fear. "M-master... what was that?"

"Satsui no Hadou. The surge of murderous intent."

"The surge... of _murderous _intent?" Gouken was bewildered.

"Correct. The Satsui no Hadou coexists with the fighting discipline of Ansatsuken. It is a flow of energy that has existed for eons. In fact, quite a few Japanese warlords were able to control this power. Yet, in most cases, this power is more like an untapped potential. Very few who successfully learned the style actually came in contact with this power. It is only when one who uses this style becomes so focused on winning the fight... when the prospect of victory in a fight becomes paramount... that the evil intent consumes them."

Goutetsu waited a moment before continuing. The brothers intently listened, both for opposite reasons.

"If an untrained practitioner draws from this power, he'll be driven to temporary insanity. A killing machine with no visible distinction from foe... or friend. It _is_ possible to master this power and have full control over it. Unfortunately, total mastery comes with a price: he who gives his all to master the surge detaches himself from all human necessities. He becomes inhuman, emotionless. A being who is devoid of all emotions and lives only for one thing: the fight."

"The fight?" Gouki pondered on that last statement.

"But Master, you yourself show signs of emotion, a sign that you didn't master the surge. Yet, you haven't exerted the Satsui no Hadou during any of the years that we've lived with you. We would have felt that ki. So then how - ?" Gouken attempted to make sense of this startling revelation.

"Ah, a quick study I see. It is true that I am connected to the Satsui no Hadou. Through intense years of training, both physical and mental, I've mastered it to the point where I'd be able to retain my emotions _and_ regulate its flow into my body. Consider it as a sort of 'switch', if you will."

Gouken opened his mouth to speak, but abruptly stopped with a prolonged sigh, perching his fist in his cheek. _Why would anyone want to forsake their humanity, just for power? _Gouken's face contorted into one of anger and confusion.

Goutetsu sensed his pupil's inner conflict. He gave a nervous smile and lowered his hand onto Gouken's shoulder. "I didn't say that you had to learn how to use this power. It's your choice. Like I said, this style is only a tool. A tool that you can shape in to be the sharpest of swords... or the sturdiest of shields."

Gouken eased up a bit. "Thank you, sensei."

Goutetsu smiled before turning his attention to Gouki, who was abnormally silent. "Gouki? Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine. Couldn't be better." Gouki's tone was once again solemn. But in his mind, he had come to a moral impasse. _To learn this sacred art to its fullest... I must forsake my humanity?_ _Hm... To be strong... Is this my path in life?_

* * *

_A few months later - A serene meadow near Suzaku Castle_...

Gouki's eyes opened to the glaring rays on the sun. He winced. "Ugh... what happened?" He squinted as he saw another figure squatting a few feet away from him: Gouken. "Onii-san?"

It was then that Gouki became aware of his surroundings. He was lying down in grove up against a tree. The tree itself sported numerous splinters, cracks, and dents. The surrounding grassland was scorched. Simply put, it looked as if a monsoon had blown through the area. Gouki himself had a few wraps and bandages plastered in a slapdash manner on his body.

"Sorry, brother. I had no other choice. Just consider yourself lucky that I didn't blast you in the face with a Hadouken." A semblance of cheerfulness was on Gouken's face. His white gi was tattered and the young man had many cuts and gashes along his arms, feet, legs, and face.

Gouken's countenance immediately turned bleak. "It was the Satsui no Hadou, wasn't it? You finally gave into it, huh?"

It hit Gouki like a brick. A visual of a rampaging and mindless version of himself flashed through the younger karateka's mind. _That... that was me? _

Gouken walked over to his brother and slung Gouki's shoulder around his own. Gouken, who was injured in his attempt to subdue Gouki, struggled to lift his brother from the ground.

As the brothers limped across the grove back towards their residence, Gouken began to speak. "Please... Gouki. Promise me that you won't be consumed by the Satsui no Hadou. It's pure evil and will envelop you in darkness it goes unchecked. Don't let it shape your own path; only you can do that. Please brother... promise me."

Gouki remained silent, contemplating his brother's concern. Finally, he gave an answer. "Promise." But it was a lie...

_That power... that was incredible. Beyond human limits. And... it's only the beginning... _

A faint grin crept across Gouki's face...

* * *

_Two months later - Outside of the dojo..._

"What?! Gouki, you _can't _be serious!" Gouken slammed his fist into the ground as he yelled at his younger sibling. "It's _murder_! _How _can you embrace the killing aspect of Ansatsuken without having any qualms whatsoever?"

"It's _quite _simple, if you'd _ever_ stop to _think _about it," Gouken coolly quipped as he leaned against the side of the dojo, head lowered and eyes closed.

"But it's _not_ the true path of the warrior! What can you _possibly _gain from killing?" Gouken fervently retorted.

"The true path? The _true _path?! What the _hell _do you know about 'the true path'?!" Gouki hissed through gritted teeth. The black-clad fighter slammed his fist into the adjacent wooden wall. The wall splintered as he removed his hand. "We're not _kids _any more, Gouken. _This _is my decision, and _this _is the path that I've chosen." Gouki's fist was clenched and violently convulsing.

"You... you disgust me, with your talk of nobility and honor. You're a weak, pathetic soul who's too afraid to do anything _useful_ with your talents. I resent you. Such potential. _What a waste_. I've learned all that I can from this dump. It's time for me to seek out my own path." Gouki began to meander aimlessly towards the forest that blanketed the dojo. He never looked back.

Gouken outstretched an arm in his brother's direction, but slowly retracted it while letting out a heaving sigh.

Goutetsu emerged from the dojo, having overheard the heated exchange between the two siblings.

Gouken looked at his master, unsure of the future. Quivering slightly, he began to talk.

"Master? What will become of Gouki?"

The old master reflected on Gouken'sinquiry for a few moments before turning to face his pupil. "Sadly, I do not know the answer to that question. This is a journey that only your brother can take, and I do not know how things will turn out. But just as a pendulum swings back and forth, so do the ties that we make in life intertwine. He'll be back. I'm _sure _of it."

Gouken glanced over at his master, who was once more deep in thought. Gouken sighed and took one last look at the forest. Gouki was long gone...

* * *

_Japan, 1973 - The inner shrine of Goutestu's temple..._

Goutetsu sat Indian-style, alone in his desolate temple. He had sent Gouken into town to buy some groceries. The last he had heard, Gouki was training on the isles of Samoa, aiming to perfect the killing aspect of Ansatsuken.

Suddenly, the door to the inner shrine opened with a loud slam. A violent wind blew through the recesses of the temple. Goutetsu didn't need to need to turn around to see his visitor. He already knew who it was.

"What brings you here... Gouki?"

Standing in the doorway was Gouki. Physically, the karateka looked the same as he did one year ago. Yet, Goutetsu sensed that there was something amiss with Gouki. There was an odd glow in his eyes... An insatiable bloodlust...

"Enough chit-chat _old man_. Meet me at the sacred grove in ten minutes." And with that Gouki was gone. The door closed with an equally hard noise.

Goutetsu sighed before reaching for his bandanna and prayer beads. He knew what he had to do. Unfortunately, a part of him had been eagerly waiting for this moment...

After a slow hike, Goutetsu finally reached his inevitable destination. The old man slowly approached his student, whose back was turned. Gouki stared blankly into space. Goutetsu coughed, signaling his presence.

Gouki then turned around, stomping the ground with his right foot and assuming an odd stance. His body began to rumble as otherworldy flames blazed above his gi, forming the kanji "ten" above him in the air.

"So, you've finally arrived. Took you long enough." Gouki's statement was smug and impatient. "I've taken to heart what you said that one day, long ago. Gouken may cling to his stingy life, but I _refuse_ to do so."

"Defeat in ansatsuken values as death... no selection of means, only victory is all," gravely replied Goutetsu as he shook his head. "I knew that it was a mistake. It's my fault that I gave you a glimpse of the power that came from the Satsui no Hadou. You weren't ready for it. You _never _were. You're nothing more than a war-monger who'll do anything to quench his never-ending thrist for power and knowledge..."

"A mistake? Ha! This was the _best _thing that's came out of this cruddy life with you. With this power... I'll become the greatest warrior in all history! Beyond all human limits! I'll be a _god_!" Gouki let out a maniacal laugh.

"A god? Hmph. More like a delusional and misguided _fool_. I guess that there's nothing I can do to save you from yourself," Gouken stated with a tone of melancholy.

"I guess not." Gouki's face reverted to one of little emotion.

"Then I guess..." - the old man tied his bandana on his head and lowered his prayer beads onto his neck - "the least I can do... is end your suffering..."

"I'd _like _to see you try!" Gouki began to summon up an immense amount of ki. A dark power swept over the land...

_Gouken... Gomen nasai_. Those were the thoughts racing through Goutestu's mind as he prepared himself to do battle with his erstwhile student.

* * *

**Translations  
**_Suzaku _- "Vermilion Bird"(朱雀); i.e. a red sparrow or phoenix (loosely)  
_ne_ - no, right (as in the form of a question)  
_hai_ - yes, correct  
_yansu _- dont'cha know?  
_gomen nasai_ - forgive me, sorry  
_onii-san_ - big brother  
_dojo_ - temple, formal gathering place for practice of a martial arts style (lit. "place of the Way")

* * *

**A/N: **Although many probably overlooked this, I can't help but feel sorry for Gouki/Akuma. He had a normal life full of bliss and tranquility, yet he gave it all up for power. This chapter meant to capitalize on what could have been for Akuma.

The next chapter will take place in 1987 (i.e. the events of _Street Fighter_); hopefully, things will pick up from here.


	4. That Boastful Son of a Gun

**A/N:** First of all, I'd like to thank **Metal Harbinger** for being the first to review this story. I really appreciate it. :)

The title of this story has been edited to **SFA: Senshi no Kyogi **("Creed of the Warrior") simply because **Senshi Kyogi **is grammatically incorrect (I think).

Again, if anyone is interested in beta-reading for this story, contact me.

**Disclaimer:** I _don't _own _Street Fighter_. _Street Fighter, Final Fight_, _Street Fighter EX_, as well as all respective elements and relative meta-series, are copyright Capcom, Arika, and all individual creators. I may own the rights to this story, but that may be pushing my luck a bit _too_ far.

* * *

_**SFA: Senshi no Kyogi**_

**Chapter 3: That Boastful Son of a Gun...**

_Japan, 1987 - a hidden residence near Suzaku Castle..._

A bearded man in his mid-40s sat alone inside an isolated home, deep in prayer. While the top of his head was bald, lengthy amounts of grey hair fell from the sides and back of his head, forming an intricate ponytail. A grey headband was worn on his forehead. He wore chesnut colored prayer beads around his neck. The man was draped in a grey gi with the kanji "mu" (無) etched on the back. The man silently chanted a few words before finally opening his eyes.

His vision wandered over to a far away table. Several pictures where situated upon the tabletop.

The first was of two boys. The first, a raven-haired youth draped in white, had his fist pumped into the air and a huge smile on his face. The second was a darker-skinned, fiery-haired boy. He was jumping in the air ecstatically, for he had just caught a fish that was literally twice his size.

The man sighed. "Ah... if only life could have always been like that. Gouki... I will never forget that fateful day. What I'd give to rectify the wrongs of the past. To go back to such an ordinary life..."

The man was Gouken.

His eyes, now lacking the liveliness of his youth, fell upon another picture. It was from one of his many travels to America. In this particular one, Gouken was dressed in a tuxedo, a rarity for him. He was shaking the hands of a blond American man, a rich hotel tycoon that he had befriended during his stay in the States. Here, Gouken was the best man in a wedding ceremony between the CEO of the Masters Foundation and a striking, dark-haired Japanese maiden in a traditional kimono.

_Masters-san. It has been awhile since I last spoke to you and your wife_. Gouken smiled as he reminisced about his time with the Masters family.

_Hopefully, I'll be able to see you two again. The air rates these days aren't cheap. _Gouken chuckled.

One last picture caught the hermit's attention. Two boys, one dressed in a white gi and the other in red, were sitting by the river, chatting. The first was a brown-haired boy with unruly hair and a stern countenance. The second bore paler skin and had long, flowing blond hair, a stark contrast to his dark eyebrows. His expression was borderline confidence and arrogance.

"Ryu... Ken... my students. It has been some time since I left you two to journey throughout the world, making your own fortunes and finding your own destinies. The best of luck in both of your journeys." Gouken smiled as he grasped the picture of his two pupils eleven years ago in his hands.

"What was that about Ryu and Ken?" inquired a feminine voice from outside of the house. The doors to Gouken's humble abode slid open to reveal a vivacious young woman. She wore a yellow gi, much like Gouken. The only difference between the two was that the female had her pants legs rolled up to her knees and sported a right elbow pad. Her raven hair was tied back in a medium length ponytail.

"Hello father," greeted the woman with a warm smile.

It was Gouken's daughter. Years before Akuma murdered Goutetsu, Gouken found himself fortunate enough to take the hand of a beautiful woman in holy matrimony. Together, they conceived a child. Unfortunately, their happiness soon turned to sorrow, as Gouken's bride passed away a few years later, leaving Gouken to care for his sole heir... _alone_.

Perhaps it was a sign from the heavens that Gouken, regardless of any honor or nobility left in his sorrow-filled husk, would be doomed to much grief and hardships.

Naturally, Gouken and his wife had decided on a beautiful name for their child, but it was usually supplanted by a nickname given when the pupil known as Ken came to live with them: "Ojou-san". What was originally a playful jab at her then-princess-esque behavior eventually became a commonplace title.

"I was thinking about your uncle." Both Gouken and Ojou-san's expressions dimmed at the mention of Akuma. It was a topic that neither of them wanted to press on with. Gouken immediately changed subjects, hoping to lighten the mood.

"I've also been wondering of Ryu and Ken's progress as of late. I received a few letter from Ken a few days ago. Apparently, he's faring well in an American martial arts tournament."

"And Ryu?" asked Ojou-san, her dark eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"I can't say," the hermit stated matter-of-factly, much to his daughter's dismay.

Gouken knew that Ojou-san, while close childhood friends with Ken and Ryu, doted on the latter with much devotion and compassion. Naturally, the naive and straight-laced Ryu was oblivious to his daughter's advances, something that the more "streetwise" Ken mocked him for.

Suddenly, a violent wind flowed through the land, slamming open the doors and windows of Gouken's residence. Gouken turned around as he heard what he believed to be the shattering of glass. On the floor was the photo of him and Gouki as children, a small rip dividing the two brothers.

Ojou-san gasped. "What was that?"

Gouken slowly reached for the picture. "An omen, perhaps?" Gouken felt an odd ki lingering in the distance. "I see. He... _he_ must be on his way. Then so be it. After all, time does repeat itself..."

* * *

_U.S.A., 1987 - A complex near the San Francisco Bay.__.._

Another American Martial Arts Tournament had commenced. Martial artists from all across the nation, and then some, lined up to test their meddle and fighting prowess. The tournament had already reached the quarter-final rounds. One relative newcomer was already making a name for himself, thanks to his devilishly-good looks, his devil-may-care attitude, and most importantly, his unnatural skill.

Two men were fighting in an arena, cheered on by hundreds of thousands of spectators. The fight was one-sided, as a karateka in a red dogi had finally decided to stop blocking and parrying his opponent's attacks and go on the offensive.

The crimson karateka rushed over to his foe, effortlessly parrying a hook kick as he proceeded to counter with a very unexpected and unconventional move - a leaping headbutt.

Using the unforeseen attack to catch his opponent off-guard, the kareteka took advantage of his position. Wrapping his arms around his adversary's neck, the youth slammed his hulking foe into the ground. The man blindly lashed out at the fighter garbed in red clothing.

The young man ducked under his opponent's roundhouse kick before delivering a fierce axe kick to the other man's shoulder. The other fighter, a bulky man versed in no particular discipline, kneeled as his opponent smirked. The man gritted his teeth and snarled.

The red-clad fighter taunted his injured foe. "Hey, I can do this _all _day. But you, you're not looking so hot."

This young man wore yellow sparring gloves on both hands. A long, blond ponytail tied by a red hair-tie swung back and forth and he smiled once more. His black eyes brimmed with confidence and excitement.

The remark egged on the bulky man, his temper already flaring due to the fact that a "girly-man" was getting the best of him. With a loud battle cry, the man rushed at the younger (and cockier) fighter.

It was _exactly_what the blond karateka was hoping for. Summoning up ki and directing it into his right fist and legs, the youth crouched ever so slightly, bracing for his opponent's attack. A snide flash of his pearly whites never left the karateka's face.

The bulky fighter lunged at the youth, bringing both hands down for a hammer punch.

The karateka countered with a rising, spinning uppercut that connected with the man's lower jaw.

"SHO... RYUUUU... KENNNN!"

A gust of wind passed through the arena and all fell silent for a few seconds. It was so quiet that the dropping of a feather could be heard. The larger man fell to the ground with a crash and several thuds. Various individuals in the crowd gasped and cringed as the man's crumpled body drooped down onto the ground. The blond-haired man gracefully descended from the air, still spinning from the residual momentum gathered. The referee ran over to the man to check if he was ok. He was, but he was out - _cold_.

"K.O!!!" yelled an off-screen announcer with much glee. "That's great, super, excellent! The winner of the first quarter-final match is... Ken!" The commentator was clearly enjoying himself.

The referee walked over to the blond and held his arm up as the crowd erupted into a combination of applause, cheers, and whistles.

The karateka, a hotheaded youth named Ken, broke free of the referee's grip and ran over to the edge of the ring. Forming a "V" with his index and middle fingers, Ken gave a victory sign to the audience. "Yeah!"

Several females swooned as Ken gazed at them. Ken's eyes met with those of a demure young woman. Draped in a white tank top and red shorts, long, beautiful locks of blond hair flowed behind her head. Ken gave a sly wink to the blue-eyed girl before turning around. The girl's face flushed.

Ken pumped his fist into the air, eliciting several whooping noises from the crowd.

As Ken exited the arena, various cameramen and reporters swarmed around him. One eager woman was the first to question him.

"Ken. First of all, I'd like to congratulate you for your stunning victory today."

"Thank you," Ken replied with a smile.

"Any words for your fans and rivals?"

"To all of my fans out there, thanks for the support." Ken bowed with a sincere look of gratitude on his face. "And to all of the ladies... who knows? Maybe one of you will catch my attention." Ken gave a sly smile, his mind already visualizing the pretty young girl he had seen a few minutes beforehand.

"And to the winner of the next quarter-final match," - a gleam shone in Ken's eyes - "you had better watch out. I intend to go all the way to the top." Ken made a boastful pose, pointing to himself with his thumb. Ken's mouth creased into a cocky smirk.

"Now if you'll excuse me... I need to take a nice shower." Ken ducked the paparazzi and made his way to the contestants' lounge.

* * *

_About 30 minutes later..._

Clad in a blue jacket, a white undershirt, and blue sweatpants, Ken decided to stick around and watch the progress of the second quarter-final match. Whoever won this fight would be his opponent in the semi-finals, so Ken would have to study both fighters' strategies and techniques if he wanted to come out on top.

The same referee that presided over Ken's match stood in the center of the ring, awaiting a signal from his superiors. The overly-chipper announcer began to speak.

"Are you ready for another super special awesome battle?"

It was a rhetorical question; the audience was already falling out of their seats from the excitement. If left unchecked, it would probably result in pandemonium.

"Well then, let's start the next match!"

Two male fighters met at the middle of the arena for the next quarter-final match. One was a large, well-built French man with short blond hair. He was garbed in a blue keikogi, white shorts, white sparring gloves with red accents, and blue shin guards.

_A French martial artist? Well what do ya know? _Ken raised his eyebrows as he pondered. A smile crept across his face. _Could be interesting..._

The French man's opponent was a smaller American fighter with wavy reddish-orange hair. He wore a navy dogi with black and red stripes covering the shoulders. A red undershirt was visible. His arms were tapped. The man tightened his black belt before turning around.

The two men stared each other down before respectfully bowing to one another.

The American rose with a smile on his face. "Hey you!" the man called out to his foreign opponent. The French man remained silent. "I'm Allen Snider, two-time U.S. Karate champion and the _toughest _man in America. Nice to meet ya."

Ken shook his head at the exchange. _What a big talker_. _Hope that he can back it up_.

"I see," the French replied in a slightly gruff manner. He looked indifferent. "The name's Abel. It's a pleasure as well."

Ken shrugged. _Well, at least he's polite. _

Allen smugly spoke, raising his head and smiling to assert his skill. "No hard feelings, but I can't allow you to win. I'm going all out, so you better watch your back."

Abel merely shrugged as he assumed his fighting stance. "Back at you. Hope that you don't disappoint." Allen nodded and assumed fighting stance as well. Ken noticed that Allen's stance was very similar to his own.

The crowd was fired up as the announcer began to belt out words. "Get ready fighters!" Both combatants affirmed their anticipation by tensing up even more.

"Face it straight!" The crowd howled again. Abel and Allen looked around, dumbstruck.

The announcer slapped his forehead. "GO!!" he screeched with slight agitation.

Ken relaxed as the fight began and slouched down onto a nearby couch, an excited smile lighting up his features. Ken tapped his fingers on the couch merrily. _This should be good._

"URYAA!" Allen came rushing at Abel with an aerial, spinning axe kick. Abel deftly dodged the kick. Allen grinned at this. Using his momentum to bounce off of his kick, Allen leapt into the air, performing a forward spin and delivering a diving punch covered in a lavender aura.

Abel was caught off-guard by his opponent's odd technique and agility. The punch hit the bulky French man dead-on, sending him back a few feet. Abel clutched at his sides and groaned.

Allen chucked a bit, taunting his injured foe.

Abel regained his composure. "Interesting strategy. I assure you that it won't work a _second_ time."

"Heh, we'll see," scoffed Allen.

Now it was Abel's turn to strike. Flinging himself at Allen from the air, Abel brought down both legs in a spinning wheel kick. Allen managed to block the attack, but the sheer force from the blow caused Allen's knees to buckle and eventually give way.

Ken took note of this particular technique. _What a cool move. I'll definitely need to try it out myself sometime._

Abel continued his relentless assault on the crippled Allen. Abel delivered an overhead hooking punch to Allen's head, followed by a low reverse punch to the stomach. Finally, Abel grabbed Allen's legs and flipped him into the air, feet first. Allen landed on his head with a loud crash.

After a few seconds, Allen groggily rose to his feet, rubbing his sore shoulder. However, Allen's goofy smile never left his face.

"Was that a flapjack? Oh yeah, that was cool! This is going to be fun!"

Abel shook his head, a smile finally grazing his stern features. "You're an odd one, mon ami."

The two resumed fighting posture as the crowd screamed could have sworn that even though he wasn't near the arena, that the decibel level of the spectators was causing his ears to bleed. Keeping his eyes fixed on the match, Ken placed his hands over his ears, desperately attempting to zone out the noise.

Abel attempted another hooking overhead punch. It missed.

"Man, you're starting to look like a one-trick pony!"

Abel caught Allen off-guard by alternating to a low kick to Allen's shin. Abel grappled with Allen before tossing him away with a sideways circle throw.

"Am I?" Abel mockingly inquired as Allen was flung halfway across the ring.

Using his hands to break the fall, Allen tumbled on the ground before rising again to face Abel.

"URYAA!" Allen charged at Abel with another spinning axe kick from the air.

"Again?"

But Abel was ready this time. Avoiding the kick, Abel grabbed Allen by his collar and threw him to the ground. Abel proceeded to pick up Allen again. Swinging the smaller man around a few times, Abel slammed Allen into the ground again. A shockwave was visible as Allen rebounded into the air.

Allen managed to straighten himself out in midair and landed on his feet. Allen performed a backflip to put some distance between him and the French fighter.

Allen mulled over his current situation. "Hm... so a head-on attack won't work," Allen said in a hushed tone. "Then maybe..." - Allen grinned - "it's time for Plan B_."_

Allen took a deep breath, focusing his ki. He cupped his hands as a reddish ball of energy formed. Ken narrowed his eyebrows and frowned. _You have GOT to be kidding._

"SOUL FORCE!" Allen fired the energy projectile at Abel. Abel narrowly rolled under it, closing the distance between him and Allen.

It was _exactly_ what Allen had hoped for. As Abel rose, he was directly in front of the American martial artist.

"RISING DRAGON!" Allen yelled as he delivered a jumping, spinning uppercut to Abel's stomach. The force of the impact sent Abel spiraling backwards into a corner of the ring.

_What is this? "Rip-off Ken Day"?, _thought Ken as he continued to study Allen and Abel's match.

Abel quickly countered, yelling as he dashed over to Allen. Abel chained together several punches before snagging Allen and slamming him to the ground with an aerial, rolling spin.

Abel didn't waste any time. As soon as Allen recovered, Abel charged again. Abel screamed and clenched his fist before attacking with a crude uppercut. Allen managed to block, but the bone-shattering force left him disoriented. Abel pursued with an unrelenting flurry of kicks and punches.

The French man proceeded to grab Allen by the collar and swung him around a few times. Abel then hurled the American into the sky. The momentum Abel had built up was so great that Allen was launched a good twenty feet into the air. Abel leapt into the air and caught Allen, bringing him back down to Earth with an impromptu pile driver.

Ken cringed as he gritted his teeth, shifting his body and closing one of his eyes to avoid looking at the bloodbath. Similar reactions were evident across the entire stadium. _No one_ could have survived _that_.

Abel panted as the adrenaline ceased to flow through his veins. While his breathing had slowly returned to normal levels, Abel's body was in a great deal of pain.

He had to hand it to his opponent. It was a tough fight. Frankly, Abel wasn't sure if he'd be able to pull out a win after Allen's Rising Dragon hit him smack dab in the abdomen.

Abel dragged his weary feet towards the seemingly-unconscious American. Finally reaching his fallen opponent, Abel leaned forward and gave a respectful bow.

"It was a great match. I was honored." Abel turned around and began to exit the ring.

"I just hope that you're not cooped up in an infirmary for a long time," added Abel off-handedly. "I think that I overdid it with Mushin and Muga."

"Well, that's nice and all, but you can save the speech for when the fight is _actually _over."

Abel's brow raised and he slowly turned around. Much to his surprise and anticipation, Allen still had some fight left in him.

Abel examined his eager opponent. Allen was beat-up. Numerous cuts and gashes could be easily seen on his body. Allen was bent over, with his hands resting on his knees. The youth's eyes were hazy and his breathing was irregular. The boy looked as he'd drop any second.

Allen looked up at the French man. What Abel saw bemused him: Allen's expression was as goofy and eager as ever.

"Phew! Man, you really know how to throw a punch, eh? Ow..." Allen winced as he rubbed his sore cheek. "Heh, I don't even know if I have enough energy left to do something spectacular. Ah, no matter. I may not be able to pull a rabbit out of my hat, but that doesn't mean that I won't go down fighting!"

Abel gave a tired grin. "Same here. It's been quite delightful to face you in battle, but it's like they say. 'It's not over 'til the fat lady sings', and believe me, I hear music."

"Oh man!" proclaimed the commentator. "I almost had a heart attack back there! And it looks like they're rearing to go once more!" Another wild cheer erupted from the crowd.

"Alright then, it's now or NEVER!" bellowed Allen as he sprinted towards Abel. The french man merely stood his ground.

"JUSTICE FIST!" yelled Allen as he delivered a dashing punch aimed straight at Abel's midsection. Abel took the brunt of the blow, using it as an opportunity to trap Allen in a knee bash hold.

Allen felt some blood gush out of his head as Abel's vicious assault on his cranium continued. Mustering up what little strength he had left, the American broke free of Abel's grasp. Allen then proceeded to vault over Abel's massive frame and foot launch off of the back of his head.

Allen lazily rolled on the ring's surface. He caught a glimpse of Abel rushing at him from out of the corner of his eye. He had no time to block or dodge, so Allen simply braced himself for Abel's next attack.

Allen slightly moved his head to the right as Abel's kick nicked his ear. The two traded blows for what seemed to be an eternity. The sounds of bones cracking and straining were easily audible as the crowd fell into a dead silence. Not even the over-the-top announcer dared to let a word escape from his lips.

Abel finally decided to wrap up their lengthy battle. Abel tightly clenched his fist as he ran towards Allen. The American knew where this was going.

Allen drew in a deep breath as he focused. Abel was only a few seconds away. It would be a gamble, but Allen didn't have much to lose. Instinctively, Allen brought down both palms onto Abel's fist, parrying the blow and catching his opponent off-guard. _This_ was his chance.

"Sorry pal. It's been fun, but... it has to end _sometime_." Allen's expression became uncharacteristically fierce as he drew upon the last of his strength.

"Here we go! TRIPLE BREAK!!" shouted Allen as he leapt into the air, right leg outstretched.

"HA!" Allen's first blow snagged Abel on the chin.

"SHA!!" Allen followed up with an identical attack from his other leg, striking the French man in his abdomen.

"IZA!!!" Allen let out a furious scream as his final kick collided with Abel's face, blasting the man through the air with the force of a catapult.

Abel was the first to hit the ground, followed shortly afterwards by an exhausted Allen. Both showed no signs of life.

Once more, an eerie silence permeated throughout the stadium. Even Ken, who had a penchant for running his mouth when the situation didn't require such actions, was wordless. Likewise, his mind was drawing a blank.

"Is... is it a draw?" inquired the commentator.

The referee shrugged before walking over to Abel's limp body. The man grabbed Abel's wrist and checked for a pulse. He gave a relieved sigh when he finally picked up one. His attention suddenly shifted to the opposite corner of the ring as several members of the audience gasped.

Ken's mouth began to flap erratically as incomprehensible sounds came out of them.

"Heh heh... Don't count me out just yet... I'm still... in it."

A wounded Allen struggled to stand up. He was breathing heavily. One of his eyes was closed shut and the other was bleary and bloodshot. Blood ran down his forehead from the area where Abel's knee bash assault connected. His gi was tattered and ragged, a result of the vicious battle. Allen pressed down on his wobbling right leg as he attempted to erect himself.

The referee ran over to the American and put an arm around him right as Allen began to stumble. He barely managed to hoist up Allen body.

"Thanks. Phew! Do you think that you could take me over to Abel?" The referee nodded and dragged the youth over to his fallen opponent.

"Here's fine. Let me down." The referee obliged and slowly dropped Allen to the ground.

Allen squatted down next to his opponent. "Yo. Abel. You ok?"

With a few huffs and a groan, Abel's eyes finally opened. "Heh, I wish that I was. But it's hard to 'be ok' when you were just blasted through the skies like a bazooka shell."

Allen scratched his head. "Sorry. I guess that _I_ was the one who overdid it, eh?"

"Heh, no joke." Abel merely laid there, staring into space.

"Hey, Abel? Those were some pretty sweet moves you busted out there. Where did you learn them?"

"Come to think of it... I don't have a clue," said Abel flatly between pants.

"Really?" Allen found it hard to swallow.

"I'm not pulling your leg. To be honest, I have no recollection of _anything_. My life. My occupation. My family. My past. _Anything_. All that I know is that my name is Abel and that I was born in France. That's it. All that I do is drift. When I got wind of this tournament, I came to America, hoping that I could find some answers, but... well... you know..."

"_Really_?" Allen's eyebrows rose again. "Bah, no matter. It _was _a great fight. I guess this means that I'll have to win it for the both of us, right?"

"Yeah. That is, however, given that I didn't destroy your skeletal and respiratory systems," joked Abel.

"Ha! I'll keep that in mind when I mop the floor with whatever sap has the misfortune of facing me next," countered Allen.

"Well then, good luck." Abel extended his right hand towards Allen. The American warmly returned the handshake.

Allen was then snatched away by the referee as the crowd went hysterical with glee.

"Ow! My arm _still _hurts you know!" winced Allen.

"Congratulations! This match's winner is... Allen Snider!"

The referee held up Allen's sore arm - much to Allen's discomfort - as the crowd whooped and hollered.

"And let's give it up for his amazing opponent, Abel!" Chants of "ALLEN!" and "ABEL!" rung across the stadium.

Ken chuckled to himself before grabbing his duffel bag and making his way towards the exit. _Looks like it's gonna be one hell of a tournament. Can't wait._

* * *

**Translations  
**_Ryu _- dragon  
_Ken _- fist, sword, prefecture  
_Ojou-san _- "little miss"  
_Shoryuken_ - Rising Dragon Fist  
_Mushin_ - lit. "no mindedness"  
_Muga_ - lit. "No Self"  
_mu_ - empty, void, none, naught, without, zero, nothingness  
_-san_ - a title of respect/honorific (something akin to "Mr." or "Mrs.")  
_kimono_ - robe usually worn as outer garments by Japanese men and women  
_dogi -_ lit. "the way clothes" (can be used interchangeably with _keikogi_)_  
__keikogi - lit._ "practice clothes", uniform for training used in Japanese martial arts

(_Note_: the word _gi_ is generally used outside of Japan to stand for _dogi_ or _keikogi_ but this is incorrect as _gi_ only means "clothes"; from here on out, _dogi _or _keikogi_ will be used instead of _gi_.)

_mon ami_ - my friend (French)

* * *

**A/N**: For the record, "Ojou-san" is _not _an OC. She was actually mentioned in an official Capcom statement during the _SFII_-era (she was the witness between the full Gouken/Akuma battle), but it seems that she has been placed in the backburner. If my description wasn't vivid enough, think Yuri Sakazaki (from SNK's _The King of Fighters_/_Art of Fighting _series) with Kasumi Todoh's hair (ditto) wearing a yellow gi with the pants rolled up.

I'm not sure if I got the moves down right, but most of the stuff that Allen and Abel were doing in their fight comes from actual gameplay in _EX_ and _IV_. BTW, I did not have Abel lose because I don't like him (IMO, he's the second-coolest new playable character in _IV _next to Gouken); it's for plot purposes.

If you don't understand why this chapter takes place at an American Martial Arts tournament instead of the first Street Fighter tournament, this is where Ken (canonically) was during the first _SF_. BTW, we all know who that girl that Ken winked at was, right? *wink*

* * *


	5. A Moment's Reprieve, Part 1

_**SFA: Senshi no Kyogi**_

**A/N**: Still looking for a beta-reader... *sigh* What's the point? :|

Disclaimer: I _don't _own _Street Fighter_. _Street Fighter, Final Fight_, _Street Fighter EX_, as well as all respective elements and relative meta-series, are copyright Capcom, Arika, and all individual creators. I may own the rights to this story, but that may be pushing my luck a bit _too_ far.

* * *

**Chapter 4: A Moment's Reprieve, Part 1**

Ken continued to stroll past the large crowds of onlookers, his brown duffel bag rocking back and forth behind his back. With a few pushes, nudges, and shoves, he had finally made his way outside to the docks of the San Francisco Bay.

Ken breathed in the fresh air and exhaled. "Ah, it feels good to get out of that cramped arena for awhile."

Ken put his free hand upon his head in an attempt to cover his eyes from the glaring rays of the afternoon sun. "I just wish that the damned sun wasn't trying to make me go _blind_!"

The male's ears perked up at the sound of shoes clattering against the pavement. Turning around, Ken was greeted by a delightful surprise: the very same girl whose paths he had crossed eyes with at the advent of his victory.

"And to what do I owe this pleasant encounter?" Ken asked while giving his guest a charming grin.

"Nothing really. I just wanted to congratulate you on your victory today."

"Why thank you. I - " Ken was cut off midway through his reply.

"I also saw that you were passing glances at me afterwards," interrupted the woman as she placed her hands on her hips.

Ken was taken aback. "W-whoa! What? The wink I gave you? What was wrong with that?"

Suddenly, the woman started to laugh. "Oh, nothing! But you should see the look on your face!"

Ken suddenly jerked his head forward and his shoulders slumped. He sighed. He had just been duped. Were all females like this?

The women continued as she and Ken started to stride away from the docks.

"You fight well, but why do you fight? For money, fame, or for the attention?"

"Neither," remarked Ken as he glanced over his shoulder at the intently-listening woman. "There's a man out there who I want to defeat."

"Well, I wouldn't want to be him," replied the female.

Ken smirked as he looked out into the sky and fondly reminisced his past.

* * *

_Japan, 1982 - A serene meadow near Suzaku Castle..._

Two teenagers in dogi were currently in the midst of a training exercise: one in an immaculate white and the other in a more flashy scarlet.

Their current predicament? Their master had sent them on a jog through the forest. But what sounded like an easy task was made much more tedious by the layout of the woodland.

Primarily, the terrain was jagged and worn. Add to that a large rock-face that separated the woods from Suzaku Castle, and the regime would not be a cakewalk.

The teenager in white came to a screeching halt mid-run. Placing out his left arm as a barricade, he abruptly stopped the male in red, who wasn't paying attention at the moment. Needless to say, the red-clad teenager found himself lying on the ground a few seconds later.

"Ow... Holy Zen, Ryu. What gives?" coughed the blond as he dragged himself off of the ground.

His friend, a brunette, merely pointed to a cliff that laid on top of a raging waterfall.

"Ken, look. That must be it."

Ken gave a shrill whistle. "Wow... it's quite the view." Ken looked down as he inspected the cliff.

"But, it _is _a long way down. I can't believe that Master wants us to jump over this once, trek through the rest of the meadow, and then come back here and jump over _that _again. Lemme guess, Ryu. You're perfectly intent on jumping, ne?"

"Hai," said Ryu. "I'm going on ahead. Catch up if you want to."

Ryu backtracked for a few steps before sprinting full-speed. With a mighty leap, Ryu had cleared the large chasm. He had made it look like child's play too.

"All right then. Hey, Ryu! Wait for me!" Ken took the same procedures as Ryu and proceeded to jump across the chasm. Upon landing, his left foot shifted backward as Ken began to lose his balance. He lashed out furiously in an attempt to keep from falling backwards.

"Gah!" Ken had lost his footing.

"I got you!" Ken felt two hands grab onto his arm. It was Ryu, desperately struggling to pull his best friend to safe ground.

"C'mon Ken! I can't do this alone!"

With much effort, Ken had made it out of an almost inescapable death trap.

"Phew!" Ryu wiped his brow and collapsed into a patch of grass, clearly exhausted. "Good thing you have me, huh?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Didn't Gouken-sensei teach us _humility_?" retorted Ken.

"Like you're one to talk. Hey, I could have yanked you by your hair."

"Wow... you have a rather crude sense of humor, you know."

"I do?"

Ryu and Ken just sat there, laughing.

* * *

_U.S.A., 1987 - The San Francisco Bay Area..._

"Hello. Are you still there?"

Ken was shaken out of his reverie by the snap of the woman's finger. "W-wha... Oh, I'm sorry."

"Whew! I thought that I had lost you there. By the way, I think that an introduction is in order. I'm Eliza."

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Ken. To be honest, I wouldn't have expected to run into you at here of all places. What's a beautiful young girl like you doing at a martial arts tournament."

Eliza blushed at Ken's compliment and quickly turned her face away to hide it.

"Truth be told, I came here with my sister, Jane, and her husband, who happens to be a first lieutenant in the U.S. Air Force."

"Really? Then your sis must be a very lucky girl."

"Thanks," said Eliza with a smile. "Jane was pregnant when we arrived, and she went into labor a few hours ago. So... here I am. I'm supposed to be heading to the military base, but I let Jane's husband take the car we were riding in because it was so urgent."

"Hm... do you have a pass or something to get into the base?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Then it's settled!" proclaimed Ken with joyful zeal.

"Come again?"

"I'll just have to take you there myself."

"What? You mean really mean it?" Eliza was absolutely enthralled at the prospect.

"Of course! How could I not refuse such a beautiful lady?" Ken flashed his pearly whites.

Almost instantaneously did Ken feel Eliza's arms wrap around his body, her head nested in his upper chest. Ken could feel heat rising to his cheeks as he was held in Eliza's embrace."

"From the bottom of my heart, I thank you."

"D-don't... mention... it." A flustered Ken barely managed to get the words out of his mouth.

As Eliza finally broke away from Ken, the male gestured for her to follow him. After a brief stroll, the two had reached a parking lot located outside of the premises of the arena.

Eliza's eyes widened as she saw Ken's car.

"_That's_ your car?"

She was referring to a sleek, chrome-colored '87 model Pontiac Grand Prix.

Eliza ran her hand across the automobile's frame in admiration. "How'd you afford this? It's quite pricey."

"I have my ways," Ken stated as he twirled the car keys in his hand. "C'mon. I have to get you somewhere."

Unlocking the doors to his car, Ken and Eliza hopped into the car. Ken turned on the ignition and pressed on the accelerator. The silver 4-wheeler went from 0 to 60 in about four seconds.

It was just Ken, Eliza, Ken's slick ride, and miles of open road.

"Shouldn't there be more traffic on the highway than this?" noted Eliza as she pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her purse and slid them onto her thin face.

Ken looked around, squinted to block out the Sun's radiant glare. "You're right. San Francisco - no - the _entire_ state of California usually has some pretty bad rush hour. Large amounts of open road like this is a rarity."

Diverting one of his hands from the steering wheel to a compartment in the car, Ken grabbed his own pair of sunglasses, muttering the words "Confounded sun... Good thing I've got these bitchin' shades..." in a barely audible tone so that Eliza wouldn't hear him.

Ken hastily checked his rear-view mirrors. _Rules of the road. As much as they irk me, it's for the best. "Always check your vehicle's surroundings frequently_."

Ken was glad that he did, as he noticed a rather rowdy group of bikers on their tail. Given their movements, it seemed that they had been pursuing Ken and Eliza for the last several minutes.

Ken turned his head to face his female companion. "Eliza? It seems that we need to take a detour." Ken pointed backwards and Eliza looked over her shoulder.

The car made a sudden jerk to the right as the Pontiac GP went onto an exit ramp. As expected, the bikers followed. Ken led the gang to the entrance of an abandoned steel mill.

Ken promptly hopped out of the car with dramatic flair. Eliza rolled down the windows to meet his stare with an anxious look.

"Lock the doors, roll up the windows, and stay out of sight. And if anything happens to me," Ken threw his keys to Eliza, "get out of here."

"But Ken..." whimpered Eliza. She was cut off as Ken abruptly kissed her on the lips.

"It'll be ok. You trust me, don'tcha?" Eliza nodded in affirmation.

Ken tossed his vintage sunglasses to her as the bikers had finally parked their vehicles. As he turned around, Eliza put a finger up to her lips. Her face reddened like a tomato. She had a feeling that Ken was right.

"Gentleman, can I help you with something?" said Ken as he walked up to the group of fifteen with a confident gait.

A few snickered, some snarled, and the leader, wearing a bandanna with the American Flag blazoned on it, stepped forward.

"Aheh heh heh. Of course, you can help... with your LIFE!"

The man lunged at Ken, brandishing a switchblade. Ken nimbly dodged as he grabbed his attacker's right arm. With a side kick, the man fell to the group. The blunt force of Ken's foot wasn't enough to knock out the man, but Ken was able to wring the blade from his hands.

"Ok then, what is this all about? I haven't even _seen_ you guys before, and Rambo over here is trying to kill me!"

The bandanna-wearing brute slowly got up, an odd contortion crossing his lips. "Does the name 'Ash Dynamite' ring a bell?"

Ken pondered for a moment. _Nah, it can't be THAT guy. Is it? _Ken's mouth parted to speak. "By any chance are you referring to a man that I defeated in the prelims of the American Martial Arts Tournament?"

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner! Thanks to you, you little bitch, our only chance of winning big just went down the drain!" Most of the other thugs agreed, chanting "YEAH!".

"Oh. But how is that my fault? Any other fighter at the tournament had an equal chance of besting him, so why so come after me?"

"Because you _just had_ to rub it in, you d***!" hissed the man with unbridled fury. Another group shout of "YEAH!" rang out.

"Yeah... right..." Ken remembered the very words he gave to the man upon sending a blinding left hook to his jaw.

_My last name is Masters. That should've been your first clue, loser! _Talk about adding insult to injury.

"So, we figured that we... heh heh... 'reimburse' you." Several members lightly tapped their weapons - brass knuckles, knives, baseball bats, and metal pipes - against their hands as they bellowed in laughter.

"Well then, if you fifth-rate punks think that you can, c'mon!" Ken goaded the bikers on with his hand.

"Music to my ears," snarled the leader. "Scud Busters! Knock that goddamn cocky smirk off of his face!"

_Scud Busters? And I here I thought "Rough Riders" and "Bad Boyz" were bad picks, _mentally jeered Ken.

The first thug was knocked out by an improvised haymaker, and a second met a similar fate when the body of the first man crashed into him.

Ken jumped over a low swing from a baseball bat, immediately turning around to pummel a ruffian with a barrage of intricate, but brutal, aerial kicks. Another 180-degrees rotation, and Ken's right foot had landed on the wooden bat.

"Lights out, buddy." Ken delivered a fierce knee smash to the man's chin. He was quite certain that he heard something crack, but frankly, Ken wasn't in the mood to care about their welfare.

Ken narrowly avoided a knife as it sailed past his face.

"YEARGH!!! Gack!" That was the gurgling noise another man behind Ken had made as Ken's knuckles connected with his face.

Tracking down the source of the blade that was hurled at him, Ken flipped into the sky and drove the man into the ground with earth-shattering force in his own variation of a headlock slam.

In the meantime, Eliza was watching the tussle with awe. Seeing Ken in action against fellow martial artists was one thing, but seeing him utterly destroy generic thugs without even breaking a sweat was a completely different experience.

Ken had just whittled down the number of thugs to five.

"YA!!! Gwaah!" Make that four.

The fight didn't look like it'd be turning in the Scud Busters' favor anytime soon.

Another brute charged at Ken with a aluminum bat. _They're just making this TOO easy_.

Suddenly, Ken felt the force of a metal pipe press against his throat. An unseen member was either trying to strangle him, hold him so that his buddy could get the jump on him, or possibly both.

Luckily, Ken had gotten out of worse scrapes. He had Master Gouken's harsh and perhaps unorthodox training to thank for that. Stomping hard on his captor's foot, Ken was released to uncharacteristically high screeches and hollers. Ken promptly followed up by nailing the man with his knee.

As the thug cried out in even more pain, Ken cartwheeled out of the way. The bat-wielding male was too slow to stop and collided into his accomplice. Both men laid on the ground, unconscious.

Ken pivoted about 230-degrees and delivered a roundhouse to another man's left cheek so powerful that the man flipped sideways (and in other alarming directions) as he crashed into the cement face-first.

The leader, having regained his weapon during the infancy of the brawl, was now the only remained member of the gang. He was trying desperately to keep his cool, but the fact that his legs were shaking more than a flopping fish out of water wasn't doing much to remedy the situation.

"What's the matter, _boss-man_? Lost your face? What happened to all of that talk about me 'paying up'? Sounds like nothing more than a _farce_ to me."

The man extended his right and waved it back and forth exasperatedly. "W-w-wait! Can't we strike a deal?"

Ken let his hands go lax and closed his eyes as he assumed a slightly different stance and began to draw on his ki. Upon opening his brown orbs again, the blond replied, "Sorry, I don't deal with your kind." In a flash, Ken was above the man in midair.

The man held out his hand in fear, having already dropped his switchblade. "No! Hold up!"

"Too late! TATSUMAKI SENPUUKYAKU!" Ken's right leg spun around in a vortex as it rapidly and repeatedly smacked the bandanna-clad male squarely across the face. After the fourth hit, the man was knocked backwards, but still managed to stand upright. Groaning, he finally collapsed into the asphalt, a small puddle of blood leaking from his mouth.

Ken sighed. "Well, I can't say that there _hasn't_ been a dull moment since the tournament started."

He was caught off-guard as a jovial Eliza embraced him once more. The tender moment, however, would come to a halt as Ken and Eliza heard the familiar sounds of something loading and cocking the slide of a handgun.

"Freeze! Put your hands in the air!" barked a decidedly feminine voice.

_Oh crap. What mess I have gotten us into? _mused Ken.

* * *

**Translations  
**_Tatsumaki Senpuukyaku_ - Tornado Whirlwind Foot

* * *

**A/N**: As the title says, this was originally a longer chapter, but I decided to split it into two parts for simplicity's sake.

In all honesty, even though _Alpha _was retconned by _Alpha 2_, Ken still had to have met Eliza before then, since she appeared in Ken's ending at the end of _A2_. Therefore, I modified Ken's ending from the first _Alpha_, placed it back during the time of the original _Street Fighter_, and voila! You have the budding romance between Ken and his future girlfriend (and wife), Eliza. :)

The flashback to Ryu and Ken's training was adapted from a flashback scene in _Street Fighter II: The Animated Movie_. If anything, the _SFII _movie had the most influence on the _Alpha_ series, so don't be surprised if allusions to it (among other media adaptations of _SF_) pop up frequently.

If you really know your _SF _facts, you may get the subtle familial hint I dropped with the comment about Eliza's older sister, Jane. ;)

There's an unintentional reference to the amazing _SFII _OCReMix album, _Blood on the Asphalt_, at the end of Ken's skirmish with the Scud Busters. And of course, Ken is being his typical, cocky self during the fight. Unfortunately, he doesn't mellow out until _after _the end of _Alpha 3_. :P

The only reason that I included a mention about the rules of the road was because, I, being a rookie driver have my fair share of difficulties, especially considering that I live near an interstate.

Well then, the next chapter will pick up from here (along with some more of Gouken-sensei and Ojou-san) and lead into the final arc of Ken's _SF_-era story (which will probably be 3-5 chapters at the most).


	6. A Moment's Reprieve, Part 2

_**SFA: Senshi no Kyogi**_

**A/N**: A big "thank you" goes out to **Uppgreyedd** for favoring this story. Much appreciated, my friend. :)

Disclaimer: I _don't _own _Street Fighter_. _Street Fighter, Final Fight_, _Street Fighter EX_, as well as all respective elements and relative meta-series, are copyright Capcom, Arika, and all individual creators. I may own the rights to this story, but that may be pushing my luck a bit _too_ far.

* * *

**Chapter 5: A Moment's Reprieve, Part 2**

Ken and Eliza turned around very slowly. They were staring at an athletic young woman. Given from a quick study of her features, Ken could tell that she hailed from Asia. Probably Chinese.

The woman wore an sky blue embroidered vest with yellow accents over a form-fitting navy unitard with similarly-colored accents. Her brown hair (which was the same hue as her piercing eyes) was worn as _odango _but left unadorned, tied only with yellow ribbons. To top it off, she worn similar colored shoes and indigo studded wristbands as well as a contrasting purple jacket that bore a golden star on the left side.

To Ken, she was ravishingly beautiful, but the blond karateka was already smitten with Eliza.

_Better not stare too hard. Eliza might slap me out of jealously, _thought Ken as he grimaced.

Ken's eyes trailed over to a nearby van. The letters on the vehicle read "ICPO".

_Interpol? What are their operatives doing here of all places?_

"Keep your hands up. I don't want any trouble." The woman's gun was still pointed in the couple's direction.

"Neither do we," replied Eliza in a shaky voice.

"Ma'am, they must be some kind of mistake," chimed in Ken, "we've done nothing wrong."

"I doubt it. From the looks of things here, I'd say that you two had some sort of dealings with the Scud Busters."

"What? Lady, I don't know where you get your facts from, but these guys tried to kill me. I only defended myself. That's all."

Ken knew that speaking out against an armed cop (or in this case a member of the International Criminal Police Organization) wasn't exactly the brightest idea, but he wasn't about to have his (and Eliza's) integrity compromised.

"Hm... seems pretty fishy that you'd be attacked by a prominent California-based gang if you weren't somehow involved with them," replied the Interpol agent, whose eyes never broke away from the pair for a second.

"Man oh man, you gotta learn how to lighten up. Chun-Li, don't be so hard on them. They're probably your age, and from the looks of things here, it seems that the guy over there _was_ defending that beautiful mistress from those thugs."

A somewhat older man stepped from out of the car, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He wore a moss jacket over a jet-black shirt. His pants matched his jacket. The guy's hair was a goldenrod shade of yellow and he had dark eyes. A thin mustache framed the area above his mouth.

"Sorry, Wallace. I guess that I was a _bit_ swept up in the case."

"A _bit_, eh? Sounds somewhat inexperienced considering that you've been an agent for almost a year." The Caucasian began to chortle before coughing and subsequently pounding himself in the chest.

The Chinese woman gave a sheepish grin and childishly stuck out her tongue. "Sorry!"

Ken shot Eliza a curious, almost skeptical glance. She responded with a half shrug and an amused smile. At least this "Wallace" guy had bailed them out of another undesirable situation. Ken couldn't argue with that.

The man named Wallace addressed the couple.

"I hope that my partner Chun-Li hasn't done anything... brash." Wallace scratched the back of his head worriedly.

"No worries, sir," said Eliza as she exchanged a relieved smile with Ken.

Chun-Li clapped her hands in front of her mouth and bowed apologetically. "Gomen ne!"

Eliza looked at Ken quizzically. Ken had a good idea of what his female companion was going to ask.

"Japanese."

"What?" Eliza definitely wasn't catching on.

"She's speaking Japanese." _Which is odd because I'm almost 100% positive that she's Chinese_, added Ken mentally.

Eliza made an "o" with her mouth as Ken continued.

"She said that she's sorry."

"You have my sincerest and humblest apologies," said an apologetic Chun-Li with another bow. "I guess that I was - literally and figuratively - trigger-happy."

"Again, it's no biggie. It's was just a misunderstanding, that's all." Ken coolly ran a hand through his hair.

"But, would you mind telling me what you were actually doing with the Scud Busters then?"

Ken gave a nervous chuckle and scratched his cheek lightly. "Funny story. Aheh... eh... one of their members was a competitor in a martial arts competition. He had the misfortune of facing me in the preliminary rounds. I... uh... how do I say it... 'took him all the way to the cleaners and back'. To make matters worse, my post-fight dialogue wasn't exactly humble..."

Wallace stroked his chin. "Aha. I see. Well, it looks like they fared no better than their comrade in the tourney."

A faint sparkle glimmered throughout the middle-aged man's eyes.

"Hold up. Your name. It's Ken, isn't it?"

Ken gave Wallace a thumbs up. "Yup. That'd be me."

"I knew it! You're that newcomer in the American Martial Arts Tournament, aren't you? Yeah, that _is _you! Man, people all over are rooting for ya!"

Wallace promptly ran up to Ken and jubilantly shook his hands. "Myself included."

"Glad to know that I have fans," stated Ken with a grin, his eyes flocking over to the form of Eliza. The woman averted her gaze as her cheeks reddened.

"Hey, you deserve the adulation. Plus, you did help bust up a quite large smuggling ring."

Ken's eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

"He's right," interjected Chun-Li. "The Scud Busters were a large part of a smuggling operation that spanned most of the Western states. Wallace and I had been tracking the crime ring for months. These guys -" Chun-Li declared as she dragged two unconscious bodies across the ground in the direction of the Interpol vehicle, "- were that last link in the chain."

"Well -" began Wallace as he hoisted two men up onto his shoulders, "- we'd better get a move on. We're on a tight schedule, you know?"

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to keep you any longer," responded Eliza with a curt smile.

After a few moments, the back compartment of the van was completely filled with the dazed bodies of the gang Ken had just slammed. Wallace and Chun-Li abruptly hopped into the front seat. The rumbling of the van's engines and the screeching off wheels weren't too far behind.

Both Wallace and Chun-Li waived to the couple. Ken and Eliza fondly returned the gesture.

"Good luck, Ken!" shouted Wallace with an expression of cheery zeal. "I'll be cheering you on!"

Chun-Li was next. "Goodbye! Thanks for everything! And sorry for the trouble I've caused you!"

Ken called back with a laugh. "You don't have to apologize about everything!"

Within seconds, the automobile had already faded from sight.

"So..." Eliza said as she wrapped her left arm around Ken's waist, "we'd better be going too."

"Right," replied Ken with a nod. The karateka placed his arms around Eliza's shoulders, and the two proceeded towards Ken's car. Ken himself was surprised that the neanderthals didn't try to trash it...

* * *

_Japan_, _1987_ - _Gouken's residence_

Gouken and Ojou-san were enjoying a nice cup of jasmine tea. The two were roused from their tranquil activity as the sound of knuckles rapped against their abode's front door.

"I'll get it." And with that, Gouken was up and halfway across the room.

Ojou-san sighed dreamily as her mind wandered off to think about Ryu.

_I wonder how he's doing_, she mused.

Gouken cracked open the door to his house to greet a timid Japanese mailman.

"Wow, I didn't think that anyone lived _here. _Are you... erm... 'Master Gouken'?"

"Yes, you are correct."

"Here, this is for you." The mailman handed Gouken a sealed envelope. With a brief salute, the man was off in a huff.

_A letter? But from who?_

Gouken opened the seal and scanned over the letter's contents. A smiled crept across his face.

_Dear Gouken_,

_I have some intriguing news to tell you. It seems that the proclaimed "Emperor of Muay Thai" - a hulking Thai man known as Sagat - has decided to test his mettle against the world. He's hosting an international tournament - 'The World Warrior Tournament'_ - _to prove his worldwide supremacy as a nak muay. Seeing as I am no longer bound to my vows as a monk, I decided that this would be a good opportunity to test my skills._

_That, however, was not the most curious thing that I happened upon. Guess who I ran into - or more accurately, **fought **- at the tournament? It was none other than your prized pupil, Ryu. You've taught him quite well, my friend. My abdominal muscles are still sore from his Shoryuken. Young Ryu has already bested myself, a ninja who also represented Japan, as well as other two representatives from both America and England. If I'm right, he should be en route to China. I'm heading to Thailand, which is where the finals will commence. I expect to see Ryu there soon._

_I hope to see you again once I finish with my travels. Best fortunes as always, my friend._

_~ Retsu_

The letter was written by another one of Gouken's longtime friends. Retsu was an excommunicated Shorinji Kempo instructor. The man had been "relieved" of his religious duties, and subsequently decided to travel the world. Retsu was quite spry for a man of his age.

Gouken slowly walked back into his dining room. Ojou-san was still daydreaming, but Gouken was confident that he could garner attention from his daughter.

"Ojou-san," called Gouken softly. She slowly cocked her head to face her father.

"Yes?"

"I have some news that I know you'd be delighted to hear."

"I'm listening."

"It seems that Retsu is partaking in an international street fighting tournament."

"Oh." Ojou-san's eyes dimmed with apathy. While she did enjoy Retsu's company as well as his stories, it wasn't the kind of news she was looking forward to.

"But wait - there's more."

"Go on," said a half-interested Ojou-san.

"It seems that he ran into Ryu -" Gouken was interrupted by the deafening squeals and shrieks of his daughter.

"Ryu?! Where?!" The glare emitted from Ojou-san's blue eyes was so bright, that Gouken figured that direct eye contact would have resulted in the permanent loss of his vision.

Letting out a chortle with much mirth, Gouken finally answered to his daughter's demands.

"China." Ojou-san began to open her mouth, but Gouken promptly raised his hand to silence her.

"I know what you're thinking. And my answer is no. We don't have the time or money to take a trip to China. Besides... knowing Ryu, his fights would already have concluded before we arrived. The same applies for Thailand as well."

"Thailand?"

"No."

"Demo..." whined Gouken's feisty daughter.

"Wakarimasuka?"

"Wakarimashita." Ojou-san crossed her arms in indignation and huffed.

_She is just like her mother - in looks **and **personality. _Gouken lowered his head, clearly distressed by his wistful recollection of his late wife.

Ojou-san noticed her father's distress. "Father, what's wrong?"

"I was thinking about... your mother."

An eery silence permeated the room. Both Ojou-san and Gouken lowered their heads in dejection. After a few seconds, Ojou-san finally mustered up the courage to speak.

"What was mother like?" Ojou-san was very young when her mother passed away due to illness, and thus, her memories were limited at best.

Gouken gave a half-chuckle. "Your mother was very much like you. Strong, caring, and beautiful. You're the splitting image of her. Ah, if only she were here to see the beautiful woman that you've blossomed into."

Ojou-san walked up to Gouken and embraced her father. "I know that Mother would be proud... of the both of us."

"So... when can I learn to shoot fireballs out of my palms like Ryu and Ken?" asked Ojou-san, hoping to get her father's mind off of the gloomy subject.

"Ojou-san, I only taught you the rudimentary skills of Ansatsuken in the hopes that you'd only use them in self-defense. I highly doubt that your training would go much farther than that."

"Aw... shucks. Why not?"

"Because I'm your father. That's why."

"Demo..."

"Iie."

"Daddy, you're no fun _at all_."

Gouken turned around, both content with his answer and saddened that he couldn't reveal the real reason behind it.

_I said no because I promised your mother that I wouldn't train you in the ways of Ansatsuken. We didn't want you to become involved in this family's bloodstained past..._

* * *

_U.S.A., 1987 - U.S. Route 101 in California..._

Eliza admired the shimmering waters of the San Francisco Bay as she looked out of the passenger-side window. Ken's car had passed the Golden Gate Bridge a few minutes ago, and that was quite the view.

Eliza then turned her attention to Ken. His eyes were plastered on the road ahead of him. She doubted that he'd noticed her over the booming beats of Guns N' Roses' "Welcome to the Jungle" in the car's stereo.

After adjusting the volume down a few notches, Eliza tapped Ken on the shoulder.

"Ken?"

"Yes?"

"There's something I've wanted to ask you."

"Fire away."

"Your fighting style... I've never seen anything like it before."

"That's odd. Now why would someone like you be interested in martial arts?"

"It's not really an interest of mine, but my sister's husband was trained in combat and his style of fighting is more like a blend of street brawling and wrestling. Yours on the other hand, has a more 'Eastern' feel to it."

"That's spot on. It's called Ansatsuken."

"Ansat... what?"

"Assassin's fist." Eliza gasped at this.

"No, no, no. There's nothing to worry about. The style I learned was toned down in order to incapacitate an opponent, not kill them."

"Ok... but that still doesn't explain _how _you learned it in the first place."

Ken ran a hand through his long, flowing hair. "Well, I guess I had better come clean with you."

Just then, a phone rang.

"Um, Eliza? Could you get that for me?"

Eliza shuffled through the car's floor and grabbed a red cell phone. She promptly opened the device and handed it to Ken.

"Hello?" A look of cheerful relief ran across Ken's face as he listened to the speaker on the other side of the phone.

"Dad? Dad! How's it going? Yeah, I'm fine. Oh, so you're actually watching the tournament? ESPN, huh? I didn't think that they aired martial arts tournament on that station..."

Ken listened intently before replying. "I'm sort of surprised myself. Didn't think that I'd make it to the semi-finals. Sensei's training really paid off. Oh, what? Mom wants to speak to me? All right. Talk to you later, Dad. Take care."

Ken paused for a moment and then sighed. "Mom, san wa iranai." Ken chuckled. "Ok, Mom. I love you too. Bye."

Eliza was nonplussed by the exchange. Ken took note of this as he closed the cellular device and continued to steer.

"Eliza, does the family name 'Masters' ring a bell?"

"You mean that über-rich business tycoon who owns many of the big name hotels in the country?"

"Bingo. That man would be my dad."

Eliza's eyes bulged. "For real? No wonder you're so rich!"

Ken laughed at Eliza's expression. "Yeah, but my dad thought that all of that wealth and fortune would spoil me. The last straw was broken when I dyed my hair blond at age ten."

"So it's not natural?"

"Nope. It's actually black. That's because my mother is Japanese, which effectively makes me one-half Japanese. That why I was able to understand Chun-Li when she spoke in Japanese and that's why I just recited that Japanese phrase a few moments ago. I'm bilingual."

"Really?"

"Yep. So after that 'fiasco', my old man was fed up. About eleven years ago, when I was twelve, my father sent me to the Japanese wilderness. It was there that I encountered one of his friends, a sennin by the name of Gouken. Master Gouken was tasked with training me so that I'd learn discipline."

"Wow... some story," said an amazed Eliza.

"At first I thought that it would be a drag, but it wasn't so bad. Actually, I met my best friends there..."

* * *

_Japan, 1976 - Master Gouken's dojo_...

_Gouken opened up the door to his house to greet his guests. His daughter was clinging to his neck._

_"Ah, Masters-san. You're here quite a bit early than I would have expected."_

_"Gouken, my friend. It's pleasant to see you too. Oh? Is this little Jun? Quite the beauty, eh?" Ken's father eagerly shook Gouken's hand before tickling Gouken's only daughter. The girl giggled in response._

_"This is my son, Ken." The American man beckoned to his son. Ken moved out from behind his father. _

_"Careful, he's a bit of a wild child."_

_"I'll keep that in mind. Ryu, come here!"_

_Within seconds, a small Japanese boy was by the large hermit's legs._

_Mr. Masters smiled. "So, is this the boy you were talking about? You adopted him, right?" Gouken nodded in approval_

_"Donnai ya?"_

_"Ryu, this is Ken, the son of a friend of mine. From here on out, he'll be staying with us."_

_The boy turned his attention to Ken. "Donnai de ka?"_

_"Not too badly, I guess," shrugged an apathetic Ken._

_Mr. Masters knelt down beside Ken. "Be good, ok?"_

_"Promise."_

_"Ryu, Jun. Go and show Ken around the house."_

_Gouken's daughter and adopted son dragged Ken into the next room as the two adults remained in the doorway, conversing. From there, it was history..._

* * *

_U.S.A., 1987 - U.S. Route 101_

"Yeah, I had a penchant for be a troublemaker back then. Initially, I didn't want anything to do with them. I just wanted to return home. Eventually, I warmed up to them. I enjoyed Ryu's company because I had a foil to finally pull pranks on, but that did put me into hot water on numerous occasions. This year, Ryu and I were allowed to leave Gouken-sensei and travel the world. I came here and won a multitude of fighting tournaments. That's how I met you."

Both passengers in the car blushed.

"Ryu? I haven't heard from him since. But I know that he can handle himself. After all, Ryu is _almost _as good as me when it comes to fighting." Eliza smiled at Ken's self-assure attitude.

"Eliza, you'd better get some rest. It's been a long day, and we won't be arriving at your stop for awhile."

"I think that I'll take you up on that," yawned Eliza as she wrapped her arms around Ken and laid her head in his lap. Within seconds, the young woman had dozed off into a blissful sleep.

It would be over a hour before the car reached it's destination: Hamilton Air Force Base.

Ken whispered in Eliza's ear. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. It's time to wake up. We're here."

Eliza yawned once more as she stretched. Ken helped her get out of the car and gather her things.

"Ken, I had a really wonderful time. I just wish that it could have lasted longer."

"I'll see you again, right?"

"Of course! I'll be back down there tomorrow."

"Well, I'd better not hold you any longer. Bye, Eliza."

Eliza curtsied and then turned around. She stopped for a brief moment.

"Is something wrong?"

The next thing that Ken knew, Eliza was in his face, giving him a long, passionate kiss. Without missing a beat, Ken returned the display of affection. When the two finally broke apart, both were breathless.

Eliza waved goodbye and scurried away. Ken decided to stick around and wait until she had clearance to enter. Ken discerned a slip of paper with writing on it in the seat that Eliza occupied. Ken scooped the note up and began to read.

_Ken,_

_I had a lot of fun today. Probably the most fun I've had in a **long** time. Don't forget about me, k?_

_Love, Eliza XOXO_

_P.S. Here's my number. Call anytime, stud._

The note was covered with innumerable hand-drawn hearts. Ken could feel his cheeks tingle. Did this mean...? Ken smiled and slipped the paper into his pocket.

Eliza was already inside, so Ken no longer had a reason to stay. Adjusting his glasses and giving one last fond glance at the base, Ken accelerated onto the highway.

_Wow... **what** a woman._

He would have _never _expected that his day would have turned out so perfectly.

* * *

**Translations**

_Chun-Li_ - spring beauty (Mandarin Chinese)  
_Retsu - _violent, in a row  
_Ojou-san_- "little miss", honorific referring to the daughter of another person's family  
_Jun_ - genuine, pure, truth, falcon  
_Shorinji Kempo_- a style of fighting very similar to Shaolin kung fu; it also doubles as a religion that incorporates aspects of Zen Buddhism  
_Muay Thai_ - lit. "Thai Boxing"; "The Art of Eight Limbs", a martial arts that involves use of the hands, shins, elbows, and knees (the eight "points of contact")  
_nak muay_- practitioner of Muay Thai  
_sennin_ - hermit  
_gomen ne_ - (I'm) sorry  
_iie_ - no  
_demo_ - but  
_wakarimasuka_ - do you understand?  
_wakarimashita_ - I understand  
_san wa iranai _- lit. "don't put the san in", no formalities please  
_donnai ya _- what's up? (Kansai dialect)  
_donnai de ka _- how's it going? (Kansai dialect)

* * *

**A/N**: "What is Chun-Li doing in San Francisco?" you might ask. It seems that by the time of both _SFII_ and _SFIII _that Ken and Chun-Li are familiar/friends with one another (the same applies for Ryu and Chun-Li; that'll be touched on at a later date). Since there's no actual official event in which the two actually meet, I came up with the idea that Chun-Li busts up a criminal group that Ken just happened to destroy last chapter. :P

Wallace isn't an OC. Well, sort of. His origins lie in _Street Fighter Alpha: The Movie_(he was also Chun-Li's partner in that movie and the yang to her much more aggressive yin). Wallace has the distinction of being one of the few _SF-_related OCs that I don't utterly detest, so that's a plus in my books. :D

Yes, I made Ojou-san's _real _name Jun. It'd be too repetitive if I kept calling her Ojou-san throughout the story's run, especially considering that Capcom never came up with a real name for her. And I'd assume that Ojou-san actually knows how to fight (even if it's a little) considering that her two pieces of official art have her draped in a dogi.

Sorry if the KenxEliza scenes were a bit too mushy. :P On the topic of Ken being mixed, it's up in the air. I'm not even sure if there's an official statement for it, but hey, I'm going with it. ^_^

Next chapter marks the beginning of the end for Ken's _SF_ saga. Stay tuned!


	7. A Night in the City

_**SFA: Senshi no Kyogi**_

**A/N**: *sigh* It's been how long since this was last updated? Sorry guys, I'm totally to blame. Me and the uber time-consuming monster known as junior year. :P It's kinda sad that it took me so long to finish writing up a single chapter, considering that I already have the ending and most of the plot already figured out in my head... :|

To **Altum**, I appreciate the criticism. It probably _is _a result of my novice nature when it comes to story-telling, but hopefully, I'll improve over time. :) Similarly to **Action Fighter**, thanks for the support. I don't know if my vision will be enjoyable for you, but hopefully you'll stick along for the ride. **Mauve Rune**, I'm glad that you enjoy this story as much as you do. Thank you, **Action Fighter **and **Mauve Rune **for favoring this fan-fict as well.

Ok then. Let's get rolling! :D

**Disclaimer**: I _don't_ own _Street Fighter_. _Street Fighter_, _Final Fight_, _Street Fighter EX_, as well as all respective elements and relative meta-series, are copyright Capcom, Arika, and all individual creators. I may own the rights to this story, but that may be pushing my luck a bit _too_ far.

* * *

**Chapter 6: A Night in the City**

Evening had fallen by the time Ken had reached the entrance of a grand and rounceval estate. Innumerable topiaries in the shape of elephants, African lions, bluebucks, and other majestic creatures of the earth populated a large stretch of land. Eventually, this grassy area rose to a singular zenith. At the top of this peak, stood a luxurious, Victorian-era mansion engraved with an indistinguishable coat of arms: the now-extinct Cape lion. Engraved into the crest was the family motto: _Dum Spiro Spero_.

"How long has it been?" Ken asked himself as he scratched the mound of flesh located under his chin.

After eleven long and grueling years in Japan, Ken was finally home. Of course, his home was probably many times larger than your average abode, but that fact didn't unnerve the blond.

Lightly pressing his foot on the accelerator, Ken's automobile began its slow descent up the lofty driveway. Normally, Ken would have "put the pedal to the metal", but he had been away from his home for over a decade. Unfazed by the sluggish speeds he was traveling at, Ken merely basked in the breathtaking sights.

When the stylish karateka finally concluded his ascension, he was greeted by numerous servants and butlers. Pulling up his parking brake and setting his gear to "park", Ken sat comfortably in his ride as an older servant approached.

"Master Ken? Is that you?"

Ken silently pushed down his sunglasses and raised his brow.

"I should not have doubted you. It seems that some things will never change. Ah, it seems that you are the type of man who loves to "wear his sunglasses at night", yes?"

Ken's brow temporarily furrowed. "That song is _horrible_. Besides, you never struck me as the kind of person who actually paid attention to pop culture. Say, are my folks in?"

"Indeed. Shall I notify the master and mistress of your... 'unexpected' arrival?"

Ken raised his hand, clearly a sign of disapproval. "No, no. I've got it covered. Feel free to take the rest of the evening off."

The butler was flustered. "Master Ken? Are you positive? What if your parents still require our services?"

"Trust me, I have it covered. Besides, you all probably deserve a break."

With a wave of his hand, most of the servants began to scatter and go their separate ways. One remained, skeptical about Ken's offer.

"Go! Don't be such a worrywort! C'mon! What could possibly go wrong?"

The man slightly tilted his head to the side and crossed his arms. Picking up on what the butler was implying, Ken scratched his cheek and did his best to whistle inconspicuously. With an anxious nod, the final man left the premises of the mansion.

Ken stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards the front door, his hands shoved nervously into his pockets. Ken stopped a few inches away from the door and took a deep breath.

_Well, here goes nothing._

Ken lightly rapped his knuckles on the door's frame... and waited. No response.

"Maybe I didn't knock hard enough..."

Ken tried again, making sure that he applied the right amount of force. Again, no one came to the door.

Ken slapped his forehead and leaned back somewhat. "Oyoy..."

The blond decided to give it one more shot. Whipping back his arm, Ken prepared to deliver a booming attack to the door. Of course, he'd have to hold back, lest he pay for damages done to his own house.

"All right. 1... 2... 3! KIAH!!"

Right as Ken lurched forward, the door opened.

"Oh... _craptactular_."

Ken stumbled over the first step and crashed into the hardwood floor... face-first.

"Ow... I think I broke my face."

"Ken?"

The currently crumpled youth recognized the voice.

"Hey, dad," mumbled Ken as he slowly dragged himself off of the floor.

Ken stood face-to-face with his father, a tall man whose appearance mirrored that of an middle-aged and more reserved Ken. The older man gave his son a warm smile as the two shook hands.

"Welcome home, son."

"It's good to be back."

"How are Gouken and Jun doing?"

"Master and Ojou-san are the same as ever," shrugged Ken.

"And how about that little friend of yours... What was his name? Ryo? Yu?"

"Ryu," interjected Ken, "and I'd have to say 'likewise' for him. I haven't heard from him in some time though."

Ken's father turned around and clasped his right hand in front of his mouth in order to amplify the sound of his voice.

"Miyuki, come here! Guess who's graced our presence tonight?"

Within seconds, a comely, raven-haired woman in a kimono entered the foyer. Her soft features lit up as she saw Ken.

"Ken-chan?" Ken's mother canoodled the blond on-the-spot as she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Mother... I'm not a kid anymore," groaned Ken with a child-like indignation.

"Sorry, it's a habit." Ken couldn't help but grin.

Mr. Masters put a hand on Ken's shoulders. "Son, it's late. Perhaps the servants should..."

Mr. Masters did a double-take and then gave his family a curious look. "Say, where _are_ the servants?"

Ken abashedly lifted a finger. "Aheh, about that... I told them that they could take the rest of the night off."

Mrs. Masters was already heading towards the kitchen. "No worries. I'll cook. It's been awhile since we've had the chance to sit down and enjoy a meal together."

And so, father and son made themselves comfy in the living room, conversing on a handful of subjects. Finally, Mrs. Masters called out to her spouse and offspring.

"Gohan desu yo!"

Ken pumped his arm into the air. "All right! Itadakimasu!"

* * *

Ken laid in his old bed. Luckily, it was just large enough to fit him. He had difficulty in falling asleep, so his eyes paced back and fro around his room. To him, it was a completely different place than during his childhood. Pictures of racecars and athletes covered the navy backdrop.

Ken's mind was racing as he recalled everything that had happened in the past few days. His thoughts came to a halt as he envisioned the beautiful form of Eliza.

To believe that _he_ of all people would end up with a girlfriend...

* * *

_Japan, 1979 - Outside of the Gourinji..._

_Ken and Ryu laid in the meadow, their eyes blankly observing the azure sky. Both were utterly exhausted from a particularly vigorously training exercise bestowed upon them by Gouken. The two extended their hands and bumped fists in a sign of mutual respect._

_Jun rushed up to Ryu, carrying a pail of water. The young woman dashed past the American, oblivious to his own weariness. Jun's actions were focused **solely** on Ryu._

_"Ryu! Are you ok? Here, drink this."_

_Gouken's daughter propped up Ryu's head with her arm and let him sip from the bucket. The look in her eyes was so affectionate that Ken could have mistaken the act of hospitality for that of a mother caring for her child._

_A devious smirk crossed Ken's face as he jumped up and began to encircle the pair._

_"Ryu and Jun sitting in a tree: K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the golden carriage!" All the while, Ken was making various silly faces and gestures._

_Jun's cheeks turned a shade of red that was even more florid than that of a tomato as she began to stammer. "T-that's not even true!" Jun stamped her feet on the ground and pouted._

_"Oh," replied Ken in a sly tone, "so you mean that you __**don't**__ like him like __**that**__?"_

_Jun bit her lip nervously as Ryu gave his own two cents on the matter._

_"Ken, we're not even in a tree," replied an absent-minded Ryu, the entire chant seemingly passing through one ear and exiting the other without any effect._

_"Ken! You're so immature!" Jun stuck her tongue out at the American teenager._

_"Look who's talking... 'Ojou-san'." The nickname came out of the blue, but it seemed to strike a nerve with Jun._

_"W-wha... WHAT WAS THAT?!"_

_"You heard me... 'Ojou-san'." Ken prolonged the pronunciation of the nickname, only to Jun's chagrin._

_"WHAT?!"_

_"Oh come on, princess! You're 'Daddy's Little Girl', through and through!" Ken never ceased prancing around his friends._

_"Ken! You're __**dead**__ meat!" _

_Jun began to chase after her friend. Ryu, not wanting any part in this fiasco, solemnly backed up towards the temple and tried his hardest to assume a meditative stance._

_"You'll have to catch me, 'Ojou-san'! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"_

_"KEN! GET BACK HERE!" screeched a furious Jun._

_"Olly olly oxen free!" yelled Ken mockingly as he broke out into a sprint._

_It would be some time before Jun's anger finally cooled off. Ironically, it was the initially-neutral Ryu who played an instrumental role in calming Gouken's enraged daughter. When Gouken himself got wind of the situation, the nickname "Ojou-san" seemed to replace Jun's __**real **__name..._

* * *

_U.S.A., 1987 - Ken's bedroom..._

Ken chuckled as the memories of his childhood slowly faded away. He can't believe that he was the only one to pick up on Ojou-san's schoolgirl crush. Why else would she have taken so much offense to his joke back then?

"Poor girl," muttered Ken.

Ryu was probably too much of a _dunce_ to realize that their only female friend was extremely infatuated with him. It was probably due to his fixation on training. Training. It seemed that was _all _that went through that Japanese's head. Maybe that was why _he_, and not Ryu, was the one who ended up with a ravishing dame as a girlfriend.

Ken's focused his sights on the digital clock in his room.

"1:43? Ugh. If I don't catch some 'ZZZs'..."

Before he could even finish his statement, Ken had drifted off into a peaceful realm of dreams.

* * *

Ken slept in late, a probable subconscious result of the fact that his semi-final match wouldn't be until the _next _day.

Ken's peaceful rest ended as he awoke to the sound of someone knocking against the wooden door leading to his room.

"It's open," called Ken, his drowsy state slurring his speech.

The door opened and Ken's father poked his head through. He snickered at the sight of his son lazily sprawled across a bed that was barely the adequate size. Drool ran down the side of Ken's nearly incoherent face.

"Just making sure that you didn't die or anything."

"Har har har," replied a deadpan Ken, raising his arms into the air and stretching them. "You got me."

Ken rubbed his eyes and wiped the saliva from his mouth before glancing at the clock. His eyes expanded to the size of baseballs as he grabbed a handful of his hair in uncharacteristic dread.

"AH!" yelped Ken as he sprung out of the bed, scampering past his father and down the lofty flight of stairs. "AH! AH!! AAAAAAHHHH!!!"

"Where's the fire?" inquired Mrs. Masters as Ken scurried past her in the kitchen.

"Can't talk right now, mom! This is a 'life-or-death' situation!" exclaimed Ken as he grabbed a piece of toast and dove into the living room.

Ken grabbed the television remote, juggled it nervously in his hands for a few seconds, and pressed the power button. As soon as the sound of static filled the room, Ken manically jammed on the keypad, flipping through channels as if he had missed the Rapture. All the while, Ken was breathing heavily.

The television program stopped on ESPN. Ken inched closer to the television until his face was pressed up against the glass screen. By this time, his parents peered into the room, quizically gazing at one another and their son.

"Ken, your eyesight will go bad if you stay that close to the T.V.," chided his mother.

Ken, however, was too engaged in the program to hear his mother. He erratically nibbled on the piece of bread in his hands. It seemed as if Ken had been replaced by a mannequin, as still and silently as he sat.

The familiar voice of the U.S. Martial Arts Tournament's referee blared from the speakers surrounding the titanic television set.

"Can _anyone _beat this fighting machine?" The crowd screamed and shouted in reply.

"A 9.5678-second knockout? That was the best fight I've _ever_ seen! Charlie, your two-time reigning champion, is advancing to the the finals!"

Ken was motionless, his mouth having formed into a mortified black hole. The figure of an American fighter appeared on-screen. He wore an open goldenrod jacket and green cargo pants that cut off right above his matching green shoes. The man's most distinguishing features were his soul-piercing icy-blue eyes, a dog tag around his neck, and a large forelock of blond hair. The blond reached into one of his numerous back pockets and revealed a pair of glasses. He proceeded to clean them and then placed them on his face with a conceited "hmph".

* * *

_U.S.A., 1987 - The U.S. Martial Arts Tournament..._

Allen Snider and Abel were present amid the swarms of fans in the bleachers. Their expressions mimicked that of Ken's. Abel, the more reserved of the two, was the first to comment.

"How... anticlimactic."

"I was there... I was _there_ and I _still_ can't believe it."

Abel placed his right palm over his forehead and shook his head in disbelief.

"I can only imagine the pain that man must be going through. The poor soul... never even saw that boot to the head coming..."

"I know!" Allen jumped up in his seat with much vim and vigor, startling his foreign acquaintance. "And what about that knee to the face? I don't think that stitches can repair _that_."

A cocky grin ran over Allen's face as he ran a thumb over his nose. "That'll only make our fight even better!"

"That's assuming that you can make it past the semi-finals," pointed out Abel.

Allen's head drooped down with a sigh. "Aw! Must you ruin my fun? I'm going up against that 'Ken Masters' guy, right? He's good, but there's nothing a good 'ol 'Triple Break' can't fix!" Allen flexed his right bicep and then rested his left hand on it. That characteristic grin of his was present.

Abel brought a finger up to a piece of cloth that covered the middle of his face and tenderly massaged the crest of his nose. "Don't remind me."

Allen began to snicker before throwing his head back in a hearty laugh. Abel smirked.

"You strange Americans and your equally odd ways."

* * *

_U.S.A., 1987 - The Master's residence in Oakland, CA_...

The television remote fell from Ken's hand as he dejectedly dropped to one knee.

"Ugh... I can't believe I overslept," moaned Ken. Meanwhile, the station's commentators began to laud Charlie's performance as a replay of his brief fight - if you could even call it that - aired.

"Excellent poise. Excellent technique. Excellent form."

"Uh... Bill? Those last two things were the _same_ thing."

"Ha ha ha ha ha... shut up, Bob. Anyway... Charlie is exhibiting the same prowess and prestige that escalated him to the top of the ladder in the last two tournaments."

"I with you on that one, Bill. Now, turning our attention to tomorrow's match, we have Ken Masters vs. Allen Snider. Definitely looks like it'll be a great fight."

The television turned off before the other commentator could respond.

"Oh, crud." Ken slowly lifted himself off of his knees and placed the remote back upon the television set. He then slumped back into the couch in defeat.

Both of Ken's parents were nonplussed.

"You mind telling us what's going on, Ken?" queried Mr. Masters.

"During the tournament, I've had a habit of watching all of the other competitors' matches. I took note of everything. Disciplines, special techniques, statistics, flaws - you name it. That guy on the screen is the two-time reigning champ of the tournament. Rumor has it that he's always trumped his opponents with rudimentary techniques. From what I've seen, that myth seems closer to fact than it does to fiction. The most strenuous thing I've ever seen him do is suplex a guy who was twice his size, and even _that_ looked easy. I was hoping that I'd be able to get more info on this guy, but, well... you get my drift."

Ken sighed before parting his hair with his hand.

"Eh, no matter. No use crying over spilled milk. Besides, the guy I need to be worrying about now is that 'Allen Snider' kid. He's talented, and on top of that, he's resilient as an ox. That guy's gonna be a tough one to beat. I _know_ it."

Ken's eyes sparkled with the brilliance of a star in the night sky. He immediately dashed past his parents back in the direction of his room.

"Ken! No running in the house!"

"Sorry, mom! I'll be in the atrium if you need me!"

* * *

_U.S.A., 1987 - The U.S. Martial Arts Tournament..._

By this time, most of the crowds had thinned out. Young Allen Snider was one of the few spectators remaining. His eyes were closed, as the redhead was lost in his thoughts. The fighter played out a simulation of his upcoming fight with Ken. His strategy against the blond had been nearly formulated when Abel approached him.

"Allen?"

"... Huh? Yeah?"

"I believe that I will be taking my leave now. I can't afford to stay here all day."

"Heh, you may have a point. So, you stayin' for the next match?"

"I might as well. I have nothing better to do."

"Ok then. It's settled. I'm gonna win the next one for the both of us!"

"I'll believe you when you actually do it," said a smiling Abel as he outstretched his hand.

"Ok! I'll make you eat those words!" Allen clasped his hands around Abel's, left them there for a few seconds, and then let go.

"Au revoir."

"Eh... English please."

"It means 'goodbye'."

"Oh. Right. Yeah. Same to you."

Allen waited for Abel to move out of sight before slumping back into his chair with a heaving sigh. Normally, Allen would have nothing to fear, but today, something was off-kilter. Doubt lingered where Allen's pride and confidence would have held their heads high.

Losing was a concept that Allen was familiar with. He wasn't always at the top of the fighting circuit. Everyone had to start from humble beginnings and Allen was no exception. Yet, he never thought about what would come next after he made it to the top of the proverbial mountain. Allen Snider may have been the two-time American karate champion, but he wasn't invincible. His fight with Abel cemented that. And here he was, going up against a nobody who thrust himself through the ranks faster than a blade of tempered steel could slice through a pig's calf.

_Ken Masters. I... I might actually lose to him._ _Wait a sec... I might actually __**lose**__._

The American lifted his head and chuckled.

_Hell, it's been a long time since that thought has even crossed my mind. So what do I have to worry about? Win or lose, heaven or hell, it's all about having fun, right? Yeah! So, I'll go out there and give it my all. No holding back. No regrets. _

Allen's mouth began to mold into that characteristic, confident smile. His eyes burned with fiery passion.

_Ken, I'm gunning for ya._

* * *

_U.S.A., 1987 - The Masters residence in Oakland, CA_...

"HA!"

Ken's fist slammed into a punching bag.

"One! Two! Three! FINISH!!"

Ken quickly followed up with four kicks in quick succession. The first three attacks were distinctly different roundhouses. For the final kick, Ken began with a roundhouse, but altered the attack at the last moment. In the middle of the attack, he decided to bring his leg up high and perform an overhead ax kick. After chaining together the series of kicks, Ken put his arms around the punching bag and leaned on it in defeat.

"Ah, shoot. No good. The Nata Otoshi Geri, Kama Barai Geri, and Oosoto Mawashi Geri are easy enough to combo, but the Inazuma Kakato Wari is another story. Lifting up my foot like that just gives the opponent ample time to pummel me."

Ken smoothed his hair and looked out of the window.

"Perhaps if I just... Nah..."

Ken walked over to a stand and grabbed a towel. After wiping the sweat off of his face, Ken smoothed his hair.

"It's a moot point by now. Guess that I call should call it quits for today."

Ken caught whiff of an unpleasant smell and stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"And take a shower! Ugh!"

* * *

Ken groaned as he stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and then proceeding back into his bedroom. Droplets of water fell from his mangy hair, soaking the rug.

"Bummer. It's not even four and I'm bored out of my skull."

Ken looked down at a slip of paper on his bed. It was the note that Eliza had left him.

"Hm... maybe today won't be so boring after all."

Ken grabbed his cell phone from off of a desk and dialed in the number Eliza wrote on the piece of paper. He waited a few seconds before a person on the other end picked up.

"Hello? This is Eliza speaking."

"Eliza! Hey! It's Ken. How ya been?"

"Ken? Well, this is somewhat unexpected."

"Wha? The last time I checked, you _wanted_ me to call."

"That's not what I meant. I was kinda expecting you to call me... well... I dunno... not this soon. So, what's up?"

"Heh heh. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the Bay Area. There are some nice restaurants down there..." Ken's voice trailed off.

Eliza giggled. "Is this a date?"

"You could call it that."

"It _is_ a bit abrupt, but yeah, I'd love to."

"Um... how does 5:00 sound?"

"Anytime is fine with me."

"Ok. 5:00 it is. You're still cooped up in that musty 'ol Air Base, right?"

"Unfortunately," sighed Eliza.

"Well, allow Prince Charming to come and rescue you from that drab castle!"

Ken was puzzled as no response came from Eliza's end. Pressing his ear closer to the speaker, all that Ken could hear were a few muffled and distorted noises.

"... Eliza?"

Finally, a gasp for air sounded over the receiver, followed by a series of cachinnations so loud that Ken began to rethink his decision to include that cheesy pick-up line.

Eliza was still panting as he spoke. "Ha... I can't breathe... ha... oh my God... ha... too much... it's too much! Ha ha ha ha ha!"

"Wow. Was it really _that_ bad?" replied Ken as he bashfully scratched his cheek.

"It was worse than bad. It was corny."

"Well, I had it coming," laughed Ken.

"You should hurry up and get ready. It's rude to keep a lady waiting, y'know?"

"Heh, I'll keep that in mind. I'll see you then, babe."

"I'll be waiting, love." Eliza's end of the line cut off with a click. At the same time, someone was knocking on Ken's door.

"Ken, I'm respecting your privacy by knocking, but asserting my authority as your father by coming in anyway!"

"No! No! God! No! Dad, I'm not even dressed!"

"Well, maybe you would be if you weren't busy flirting with your lady friend."

"What? You were eavesdropping? Seriously, what the - ?!"

"Don't have such a hissyfit. I'm just messing around with you. Doesn't a father have the right to pal around with his son?"

Ken rolled his eyes. "I guess."

"Anyway, I came to give you this." The sound of jingling metal could be heard.

"Sounds kinda like..." Ken's eyes widened in shock. "No way..."

"Way." Ken could visualize the smirk on his father's face.

"Dad, you do know that I already have a car, right?"

"I know. Consider this a homecoming gift. Besides, silver was never really your color."

"Dad, I'd hug you, but I don't have any clothes on."

Ken's father let out a small laugh. "Fair enough, sport. Now, come on. You really shouldn't keep a lady waiting. Trust me."

_

* * *

_

_U.S.A., 1987 - Jack London Square by the San Francisco Bay, Oakland, CA..._

Ken and Eliza were chatting as they dined on traditional Japanese cuisine. Ken was wearing a red polo, denim jeans, and brown shoes. Eliza, on the other hand, took a slightly more formal approach with a bright yellow sundress that was covered in a flowery motif towards the hemline. Ken was in the middle of a retelling of some of his past experiences at the Gourinji Dojo.

"It gets better! Jun's complexion is completely red by this time. She looked like a cherry and I swore than her veins were about to pop. And then Ryu says... oh man, this is the best part!" Ken cleared his throat. "He says - I swear to God that I'm not making this up - 'Ken, we're not even in a tree'!" Ken cracked up, riddled with laughter.

Eliza chuckled, stifling her own laughter with her hand. "Ken, that's horrible!" she playfully reprimanded.

Ken wiped a tear from eye as he glanced over at the other couples and families present in the restaurant. He had to urge to say some trite romantic maxim to his girlfriend, but had the feeling that it'd come off with worse results than expected. Instead, he went for a simple compliment.

"By the way, nice pick for the dining experience tonight. I've been down here plenty of times before and never stopped by Yoshi's."

Eliza beamed. "Call it a woman's intuition. Not to boast, but I was also the one who helped you decide on your meal."

"Much appreciated. The sashimi and kurikinton were quite delectable. And of course, nothing tops off Japanese cuisine like sake. Which reminds me..." Ken paused as he took another sip of his wine. "I'm surprised that you didn't eat that much. You sure that that chawanmushi is enough? I mean, it's usually just an appetizer."

"I'm sure. I don't have multiple stomachs like you."

"Hey! I don't eat that much!" protested Ken, much to Eliza's delight.

The ambiance of the venue dimmed as a local jazz band prepared to play. The band's lead, a redheaded bassist, stepped up to the microphone.

"Hey. How is everyone doing tonight? I'm Iori and this is my band, The Purple Flames of the Moon. We're to help everyone sail smoothly through the evening. This is an original song called Stormy Saxophone: Rising Pressure. Hope that you all enjoy. With that said, sit back, enjoy the fine meals, and relax."

Iori counted down with his fingers as the band got into position. As his hand dropped the drummer immediately pounded on the snare drum before lightly tapping on the ride cymbal. He alternated between the cymbal and bass drum before finally playing on the floor tom and slamming his drumsticks on the crash cymbal. As the crisp overture ended, the pianist, electric organist, and Iori chimed in. As Iori and the pianist were low-key in their musical arrangements, the organist's melody became more and more prevalent for a few seconds before the drums kicked back in. Immediately afterwards, the unseen guitarist played a few riffs from his electric guitar before all the music died. It was then that the top-billed saxophonist showed off his skills with a bold tune. The other players took a backseat as the sax continued to play.

A few seconds past the first minute mark, Iori then screamed out, "Oh, everybody! Huh!" The saxophonist took this verbal cue and his instrument began to scream. Most of the audience were clapping along to the soothing beat by that time. Ken and Eliza themselves couldn't help but tap their feet and lightly nod their heads. The organist then stepped into the limelight with a nearly angelic solo.

Iori gave another signal as he sung the words, "Let me see you dance so far!" The flutist started her own solo, aided only by the uniform rhythm of the drum beats. After another ride and snare pattern, Iori began plucking at the strings of his vintage bass guitar. As the flutist reached a crescendo, the piano countered with a short yet strong set of notes, and the screaming saxophone returned for an encore as it and the background instruments fused into a rapturous theme. The pianist, with much gusto, played once more alongside the electric guitar and drums. The saxophone, now a bit more subtle, initiated a faster beat as the band cruised along not only with their music but with a peppy two-step. As the smooth jazz hit its doldrums, the sax gave another outcry and returned to the chorus.

The players were rocking along to their harmonious song as the tune approached its inevitable climax. With one last strong trumpet, the saxophone and other instrument slowly hushed, leaving only a prolonged and haunting note from the organist. With the five minutes and counting song finally at its close, the band was given a rousing standing ovation, complete with many cheers, whistles, and feminine cries of "We love you, Iori!". Ken mock-gagged in response, eliciting a smile from Eliza.

A waitress approached the couple and laid down the receipt for their meal on the table. Eliza reached for her purse, but Ken stopped her.

"It's on me."

"Well, you really do know how to spoil a girl."

"Of course I do. I'm rich."

Iori's deep and charismatic voice rang throughout the restaurant as the band was ready for another song.

"All right. Next up is Stormy Saxophone 2: The Calm. Enjoy."

More applause and another countdown ensued, followed by the echo of the electric organ and electric guitar. After a few seconds of power chords, the drummer fired up and the song took off. Iori and the guitarist began stroking their strings again. Finally, the familiar saxophone thundered once more with the rest of the ensemble in the background. This time, its melody was higher-pitched with a pinch of melancholy. The saxophonist seemed more relaxed in contrast to his frantic performance from earlier.

Ken rose from the table, his arm offered. "Shall we?" he beckoned to his date. Eliza didn't reply, but slipped her arm around Ken's and leaned in close to him. The saxophone could still be heard as the pair stepped out into the moonlit street.

"Japanese cuisine and jazz music. Who would have thought?"

"As the adage goes, 'opposites attract'."

Ken raised his eyebrows in response. "What? Was that some kind of jab at our relationship?" Eliza didn't respond, her eyes vertiginously fixated on the asphalt. Ken could see a faint smile on the corner of her mouth. A smirk appeared on Ken's visage. "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

"Still, those guys were waaaaay better than that breakdancing wannabe." Ken was referring to a bare-chested, sunglasses-sporting, dreadlocks-wearing man armed with a mere boombox who was dancing to some kind of reggae-flavored beat earlier that afternoon.

"He wasn't _that_ bad. I thought that he put on a good performance."

A deafening new sound filled the air, accompanied by thousands of flashes of light. Ken and Eliza were approaching a large crowd huddled together in a circle.

"Let's go check it out," coaxed Ken.

"Ladies and gentlemen! I'm the one! The _only_! Cool Guy! And I'm here to welcome you the most exciting event of the year: The Bet Fight! Gamble big! Win big! Lose big! Either way, we're going have one helluva show!"

Ken's head drooped as his face deliberately became impassive. "My word, he's even _worse_ than the Tournament announcer."

A short-statured African American made his way center-stage. He was definitely an oddball, and his 70s-style afro and eccentric clothing didn't do much to help his cause.

"Place your bets... NOW! Who will be able to defeat our champion? And, to kick things off, we have musical guests, Jon Talbain and the Kreutz!"

Cool Guy pointed over to a man fuschia-haired man who looked more suitable as a crooner than as a rocker. Without a word, the man began shredding his guitar.

"Sounds like fun. I'm game." Ken eagerly stepped forward as he cracked his knuckles.

"But Ken, you have a match tomorrow!"

Ken lazily waived his hand. "Relax, I'll be fine."

"It's looks like we have a challenger! But will he be able to defeat our champion, Charlie?"

Ken's head twisted at an odd angle as he stared in disbelief and stupor. _Damnit!_

A blond in an open goldenrod jacket and green cargo pants slowly approached Ken as he cranked his arm.

"So, you're my opponent. Let's see what you've got." Those cold blue eyes were glaring at Ken, not with malevolent intent but with slight boredom. Ken figured that his past fights didn't provide much satisfaction. Regardless, Ken felt a bit uneasy. It really did feel as if Charlie _was_ staring into his soul.

_I might have bitten off a bit more than I can chew. Double damnit!_

"My money is on tha' girl!" bellowed one man, obviously intoxicated from one too many swigs of an alcohol beverage. "I bet dat she can outlast that nerd for ten minutes!" The man promptly passed out, wads of cash fluttering from out of his pockets.

"OK! We've upped the ante! Will our challenger be able to hold out for ten minutes against Charlie? Let's find out! Are you ready?"

"Hmph." Charlie took off his glasses and placed them in his back pocket. Ken merely groaned.

"3!"

Ken knelt down on the ground and stretched his legs.

"2!"

Ken popped right back up and bounced around before assuming fighting position.

"1!"

Ken licked his lips in a mix of anticipation and anxiety. _Here goes nothing._

"GO!"

It wasn't much of a fight. Ken wasn't even able to land a blow on Charlie. He had learned how to tolerate pain thanks to a routine amount of grossly one-sided spars with his sensei, but that didn't stop Ken from tasting the pavement quite a bit. Charlie then withdrew from his relentless assault, giving Ken some breathing room. After moving a few meters back, Charlie crouched down.

_Shoot... I haven't even nicked him. This might be a trap, but it's the only opportunity I have_.

Tucking himself into a roll to negate the distance between them, Ken leapt off of the ground with a short hop, his arm pulled back and his hand bawled into a fist.

There was a gleam in Charlie's eyes. "SOMERSAULT!" Charlie backflipped, his back to Ken and with one leg tucked in, to meet Ken in the air. An ethereal trail of green energy stemmed from the ball of his foot, clobbering Ken and slamming him into the turf.

_Damn... I shouldn't have gone for that opening._

Ken groggily opened his eyes too the slight of Charlie cleaning his glasses. Ken sluggishly sat up as the pang in his abdomen started to wane.

"Here. Let me help you up. It's the least I can do."

"Thanks," said Ken as Charlie pulled him off of the ground.

"You definitely have skill, but you lack focus. You had ample opportunity to strike me, yet you hesitated."

Charlie turned on his heels and began to walk away from the crowd. He shot a glance at Cool Guy during his exit. Cool Guy nervously nodded before issuing a statement to the surprised onlookers.

"It seems that our challenger has not only survived for _far_ longer than ten minutes, but Charlie has thrown in the towel!"

Charlie turned his head to speak to Ken one last time.

"Ken, you have a match tomorrow. I wouldn't want to deprive you of a _legit_ shot at me in the Tournament."

Ken brushed the dust of his jeans and nodded at Charlie's words. Humbled a bit, Ken shoved his hands deep into his pockets and approached Eliza. Her expression didn't convey much, but he could tell she was concerned.

"Are you ok, Ken?"

"My ego is a bit bruised, but I'll manage," joked Ken. "C'mon, let's go."

As the rock ballad died down, the crowd began to disperse, leaving only the fainted drunkard and his mountains of dollar bills.

Eliza pressed in closer to Ken as they strode in silence. "Are you _sure _that you're ok? This isn't some "macho man" act, is it?"

"He was holding back. If he didn't, I might not have been able to get up. So, to answer your question... yes, I'm fine. Somewhat humiliated? Sure. But injured? I feel as strong as a bull moose."

Ken looked up at the full moon. It was getting late.

"That reminds me," started Ken. "Why don't you crash at my house for the night?"

"Really? I wouldn't want to inconvenience you."

"I live in a mansion. I don't think that finding a room for you to sleep in and clothes to wear will be much of a problem. Besides, it beats living in a base filled with men and women on a high-protein diet. Plus, I'm sure that my parents would love to meet you."

Eliza mulled over her options for a seconds. "I choose you," she declared with a giddy snigger.

"Well then, we'd better hurry! I might still have a curfew!"

"But you're twenty-three!"

"I know! But I've been away for years and my folks aren't exactly the most sensible people in the world..."

* * *

**Translations  
**_  
Miyuki_ - beautiful fortune, beautiful happiness, deep/beautiful snow, beautiful reason for history  
_Gourinji - _Great Forest Temple, Temple of the Five Confucian Filial-Piety Relationships (possibly)  
_Kama Barai Geri - _Sweeping Scythe Kick  
_Nata Otoshi Geri - _Falling Hatchet Kick  
_Oosoto Mawashi Geri - _Great Outer Spinning Kick  
_Inazuma Kakato Wari_ - Flash of Lightning Heel Splitter  
_oyoy _- oh man, oh God, come on (uttered in disbelief, esp. during a stupefying situation)  
_gohan desu yo_ - mealtime  
_itadakimasu_ - let's eat  
_sashimi _- Japansese delicacy primarily consisting of very fresh raw seafood cut into varying dimensions and served with a dipping sauce specific to the type of fish; literally means "pierced body"  
_kurikinton_ - chestnut delicacies  
_sake_ - rice wine  
_chawanmushi_ - egg custard dish that is commonly eaten with a spoon (unlike most traditional cuisine)  
_au revoir _- goodbye (French)  
_Dum spiro spero_ _- "_while I breathe, I hope" (Latin)

* * *

**A/N**: Yes... it's another chapter dedicated to KenxEliza. Enjoy it (or loathe it) as it lasts. Eliza's appearances in this story are few and far inbetween. Plus, I'm not exactly the best at romantic drabbles. :P

About the whole "Ken is 1/2 American, 1/2 Japanese" thing that I brought up last chapter, I remember reading somewhere recently that Ken is _actually_ 3/4 Japanese and 1/4 American because his dad is Japanese and his mom is half-Japanese and half-American. I don't know if this tidbit is true (and Capcom probablt won't go in-depth with something so trivial), but honestly, Ken is at least _partially_ American, so at the end of the day, does it really make that big of a difference?

For those who are fans of multiple fighting series, you're probably in disbelief in regards to the latter portion of this chapter. "What are Iori Yagami and Cool Guy from _The King of Fighters _doing in a _Street Fighter _story? Why is Jon Talbain from _Darkstalkers_ in a band... as a _human_? OH, THE HUMANITY! YOU PUT SNK IN MY CAPCOM! o_O" Relax. These are strictly AU depictions of these characters. You won't see Iori running around, blowing people up with his Ya Otome, and then laughing like a maniac. Cool Guy won't be serving as a referee for the American Sports Team a la _KOF '94_. And Talbain isn't a kung-fu werewolf from Makai's Kreutz family. These are just humorous inclusions that mean no harm. And in the case of Talbain, he actually shows up in Ken's _SFA2 _stage (alongside many other Capcom characters) in his human form (he's on the far left; or at least, I _think_ that's him).

That quip about the "breakdancing wannabe" refers to the rasta-looking dude in Ken's _SFA _stage, while the "reggae-flavored beat" is actually the tropical-esque version of Ken's theme in _SFA_. Similarly, the bet fight and the circle of viewers is Charlie's _SFA _stage (which is actually Ken's stage, but at night). The part with the drunk is a reference to the aforementioned stage, wherein money is thrown into the streets at the end of each round.

I would have lengthened the impromptu Ken/Charlie fight, but I'm saving the good stuff for the Tournament (hence why Charlie only used his Somersault Shell/Flash Kick). And once more, the announcers (that includes Cool Guy) were jabs at the usually bizarre-sounding announcers from Capcom-brand fighters (i.e. _SFIV_, _MvC2_, _SFA3_, etc.).

Yoshi's Jazz Club and Japanese Restaurant is a real location in both San Francisco and Oakland, CA. However, I'm technically 10 years early with its history (similar to the Hamilton Air Force Base), but hey, don't let that stop you. This is _Street Fighter_, a timeline where apparently the U.S.S.R. didn't collapse until '98. :P It also gave me the idea to put in Iori in the story in the first place (he does have his own jazz band, after all).

For those who didn't completely follow my garbled musical description, Iori's band (which is a reference to his ability to use purple flames and his clan's moon motif) was playing Arashi no Saxophone from _KOF '95 _and Arashi no Saxophone 2 from _KOF '96_, specifically the arranged versions (check them out on YouTube; they're great pieces of video game music :D). I was also planning on using Cool Jam (his _KOF '97_ theme), but I figured that I'd be diverging from the story too much already.

And, of course... _tons _of outdated pop culture references! XD

Next chapter kicks off the end of the U.S. Martial Arts Tournament with the Ken vs. Allen match! Hopefully, it won't take me a long time to update... ^_^;

P.S.: If you're looking for something that starts off with a bit more action, then I advise you to check out **Zero-Sennin**'s **The King of Street Fighters**. It's a _Street Fighter _- _The King of Fighters _crossover that is set after _SFIII: Third Strike_ and _KOF XI_ and it is ridiculously amazing. Words don't even do it justice. :D


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